


Hierarchies

by Klei



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Chastity Belt, Dark Humor, Emotional Manipulation, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slice of Life, Societally Condoned Incest, Societally Condoned Rape, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-07 21:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15916866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klei/pseuds/Klei
Summary: Nobody is born an alpha.  It’s a status earned and maintained by being the most dominant member of the household (both physically and sexually), and legally, alphas are given absolute authority over all omegas under them. For most of Morty’s life, the alpha of his household had been his mother, Beth. After Rick returns and asserts himself over the family, however, Morty finds himself struggling to cope with his grandfather’s domineering personality, old-fashioned methods of discipline, and utter disregard for common decency.





	1. Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> The art for this piece (which depicts a later chapter, hence its absence here) was created by the lovely and talented Marie, whose work you can find on their Tumblr [here!](https://vampire-morty.tumblr.com/) Remember to reblog their art if you enjoy it!

Morty fidgeted in his seat. Had the chair of the school desks always been so uncomfortable?

"Now, when the equation is written in the form of ax2+bx+c, we call it a quadratic," droned Goldenfold.

It was already difficult for Morty to stay focused on such lectures on a good day, and this was most certainly not a good day. In addition to being so exhausted that his teacher's words were borderline incomprehensible to him, his ass was so sore that it felt like it had been defiled with an entire support beam. Morty pinched his own thigh to keep himself awake, but even the sharp pain of his nails digging into his flesh through his jeans wasn't enough to keep him focused when he hadn't had a proper night's rest in three days.

Even when class ended, Morty could hardly muster the energy to stand. He filed out the door behind his peers like a crippled zombie, hobbling clumsily into the hallway with the intention of keeping as much weight off of his brutalized sphincter as possible. There was no point trying to hide the obvious source of his pain; his situation was already well-known throughout the school. His cheeks burned red as a handful of other students eyed him and laughed amongst themselves.

Eager to distract himself from their prying gazes on his way to the bus, Morty whipped out his phone to browse some headlines. Perhaps he could take some kind of vicarious comfort through lives that were going better than his own.

 _'Child Star Monica Miles Goes Alpha,'_ read one.

 _'Anti-Subjugation 'Freeformonal' Parenting Fad Causing Controversy,'_ read another.

_'Should alphas subjugate their betas? New Gale University study aims to put this long-standing question to rest.'_

Morty's attention was diverted from the web page as a text alert popped up at the top left corner of his phone. He grimaced, already knowing exactly who it was and what it was about.

 _'New message from Rick Sanchez,'_ said the alert. Morty swallowed as he read. _'Don't bother getting on the bus. I'm picking you up today. Meet me in the parking lot.'_

He chewed his lip and groaned quietly. Shit.

* * *

 

"Well, look who finally made it," said Rick, leaning against the ship with his arms crossed over his chest. "Took you long enough."

"Look, Rick-" began Morty, his toes angled inwards as he struggled to find the words that would get him off the hook for his latest transgression.

"You'll never believe what I found today, Morty," said Rick, stepping around and reaching into the ship through the open window. He retrieved a small cage housing a skeletal creature resembling a bird with horns. He dangled the cage in front of Morty with an expectant look on his face.

"Oh geez," said Morty, grimacing. "I can explain!"

"It-it sure is a strange coincidence that I'd find a _dead_ Zippiwomp in the exact same spot that I thought I left my _live_ Zippiwomp," said Rick, dropping the cage. It struck the pavement with a noisy clatter of metal and bone. The cage door popped open, and the skeletal remains scattered across the ground. "For a second, I almost thought it might be _my_ Zippiwomp, but then I remembered, 'Oh, no! That- How could that be, when I distinctly remember trusting _Morty_ to take care of it?'"

Morty swallowed.

"I'm really sorry, Rick," said Morty. "There were just so many instructions, and-and I didn't think the order mattered!"

"I told you _three times,_ Morty!" said Rick. "I said, 'Clean the cage before you feed it.' And what did you do?"

"But you said to clean the cage after I fed it, too!" said Morty. "I thought, you know, I'd save a step."

"Zippiwomps are some of the cleanest creatures in the galaxy, Morty! They're complete germophobes! Just the thought of eating out of a bowl that hasn't been sterilized seven times is enough to give them a heart attack!" said Rick, gesturing to the bones on the pavement.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" said Morty desperately. In hindsight, he knew he should have just heeded Rick's instructions to the letter, but the Zippiwomp's teeth had been extremely sharp, and he really hadn't wanted to stick his fingers in its cage any more than necessary.

Rick pressed his fingers to his temples, took a deep breath, and sighed.

"Morty, bend over the hood of the car."

"Wh-wh-what?" said Morty, shrinking back and looking around at all of the surrounding students currently heading to their cars either to drive themselves home or be picked up. "Right here?"

"Would you rather get a mark?"

Morty shivered. "No."

"Well, then…"

Rick patted the spot on the car where he wanted Morty with his hand like he was inviting him to sit next to him on a sofa.

"Oh geez," said Morty, blushing heavily with preemptive embarrassment as he walked over to the ship like a prisoner to the chopping block. Despite his apprehension, he obediently bent over the saucer between the two headlights that Rick had lazily duck-taped to the vehicle.

Morty buried his raspberry-red face in his palms as Rick reached around to unfasten his jeans and pull them down to his knees. He didn't want to see the morbidly intrigued faces of his peers as his underwear was lowered to expose his hindquarters to the cool outdoor air.

His genitals, at least, were momentarily safe from prying eyes, still locked securely inside of a metal chastity belt. For the most part, it was of a standard design for male omegas; his sex was completely encased in metal, save for a small hole at the tip to enable urination. There was a mechanism at the base that allowed it to be pointed forward to aim at a urinal, but nothing more.

The opposite end was also guarded by an addition of Rick's design. For obvious reasons, it couldn't be blocked off entirely for long stretches of time. Some designs took the approach of a ring full of spikes that would slice the cock of any would-be rival to ribbons if they attempted anything, but those required a lot of cleaning. Rick's solution was far more elegant; a blue forcefield that would instantly liquefy any organic tissue that passed through it except, of course, his own.

"Hands on the car, Morty," ordered Rick.

With no choice but to obey, Morty clenched his jaw and placed his palms against the ship.

"Yes, Alpha," he murmured halfheartedly.

He braced himself both physically and mentally as the dripping head of Rick's colossal erection breached his body. Fortunately, Morty had spent enough time fantasizing in class for his body to be at least semi-aroused and lubricated, but not nearly enough for a pain-free penetration. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath, doing all he could to relax his body as Rick's cock stabbed into it like a spear.

Morty did his best to keep his eyes on the ship. Even as he averted his eyes, however, he could still hear the occasional giggle of his passing peers. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he assured himself that it wasn't as bad as it felt. Sure, he'd be teased for a week or so, but it wouldn't take long for some other person to humiliate themselves and become the new focus of everyone's teasing. Who knew? Maybe someone would even come to school with disciplinary marks, a popular form of punishment involving a prominent bite mark on the neck that was typically used as a means of publicly shaming a disobedient omega.

If he was being honest with himself, though, that wasn't super likely. Morty had never known an alpha to give those out as flippantly as Rick did.

"Mm," Morty moaned involuntarily as Rick began fucking him in earnest. Even when he was angry, he was good. Rick had been right to tell him to keep his hands on the car; the additional support was the only thing keeping him on his feet as his grandfather gripped his hips and thrust roughly into his wet heat. Any pleasure he gleaned, however, was quickly countered by the way his cock was constricted by the metal belt. "Nn, ah- Ow! Rick, come on, that- It hurts!"

"Good. It _should_ hurt," said Rick, clearly still irritated. "Maybe now you'll remember to do what I tell you." He picked up the pace, sending pain shooting up Morty's back like a bullet through his spine. "Right?"

"Yes," said Morty, wincing as Rick's nails dug into his waist.

"Yes, what?" demanded Rick, seizing a fistful of Morty's hair and yanking his head back.

"Yes, Alpha!" cried Morty, breathing a sigh of relief as Rick released his hair.

He did his best to keep the pained whimpering to a minimum as Rick pounded into him like a machine. The friction alone was enough to cause slight arousal, but Rick was making a very deliberate effort to avoid stimulating his prostate. This wasn't sex, it was subjugation; a means by which an alpha reasserted their dominance and put their omegas back in their place.

Morty hissed through his teeth as Rick unloaded his seed inside of him. Were he in heat, Rick would have run the risk of impregnating him, but outside of that, the seminal fluids were little more than a cocktail of hormones to inhibit the development of alpha traits like stronger muscles, sharper teeth, functional testes, and knots.

Fortunately for what little remained of Morty's dignity, Rick didn't seem to have the patience to knot him in the parking lot, and pulled out before the base of his cock expanded enough to be locked in place. Morty remained still as Rick instead pushed an anal plug into his hole to keep him from leaking while his body absorbed the fluids. Such devices were used commonly by alphas in a hurry, or by those with such a sizable harem of omegas to maintain that they didn't have the time to waste knotting them all.

"Alright, you can get up," said Rick. The bulge of his knot was still visible in his pants as he zipped back up.

Morty slowly stood up straight and pulled up his pants and underwear, then followed Rick into the car. He did his best to stay focused on the ground as a handful of witnesses whistled mockingly at him in the background

Despite the pain, he kept quiet as he plopped himself down in the passenger seat and wiped away the tears that had welled up in the corners of his eyes. It hadn't been all that long ago that such brutal subjugation would have had left him limping for days, but his grandfather had changed that in the course of a couple months. Rick wasn't exactly what Morty would call 'old fashioned,' but when it came to keeping his omegas in line, he cared little for the new age trend of positive reinforcement and gentle corrective action. If neutering omegas without due cause had still been legal, Morty was sure he would have been 'fixed' on day one. Surgical removal of the testes left the body unable to produce the hormones necessary to become an alpha. Fortunately, that practice had been (mostly) outlawed in the sixties after activists successfully advocated for the right of omegas to challenge their alpha for dominance, so Morty could theoretically attempt to challenge Rick whenever he wanted.

Pfft. Yeah. That would be the day.

* * *

 

When Rick first stepped into Morty's life, it had seemed like more of a blessing than a curse.

The first few weeks had been rife with nervous optimism. After a heartfelt, if somewhat awkward reunion with Beth, Morty had felt nothing but admiration and gratitude for his grandfather; admiration for his sheer brilliance, and gratitude for the peaceful times that followed. Beth, their former resident alpha, had been positively ecstatic those first few days. It was a joy that seemed to permeate the entire household, warding off the arguments and power struggles that Morty had taken for granted as a part of his life.

All good things had to come to an end one day, however. Rick had arrived at their home an alpha, and alphas didn't share their territory. At least, not for long. Once it became clear that Rick was there to stay, it was necessary for him to find a spot in the household's hierarchy, and the only way to do that was for he and Beth to fight it out. It wasn't indicative of any ill will; it was simply a matter of establishing dominance.

Typically, an alpha who lost a fight to another alpha would not immediately revert to being an omega, especially if there were already omegas in the household. Such a drastic change required dedicated, routine subjugation, repeatedly dosing them with another alpha's ejaculate until their dominance index dropped below the level necessary to maintain alpha attributes. This, however, was not common practice; more often than not, the victor would allow the loser to maintain their social and hormonal status in exchange for their subservience. These lesser alphas, also known as 'betas,' acted as a sort of vice-captain or enforcer. For alphas with harems too large to keep in check alone, their assistance was invaluable.

By all accounts, it was a pretty cushy position to have. Legally, a beta had most of the same rights an alpha did, including the ability to get jobs without a permission slip and control their own finances. There were only two main concessions. One, a beta had no legal control of the alpha's land or territory, even if they had been the one to purchase it. Two, only the alpha had full mating and breeding rights with their omegas; for betas, mating was a privilege for which they required their alpha's permission.

In light of the circumstances, Morty, Summer, and Jerry had all quite reasonably assumed that, after a brief tussle, Beth would emerge the victor, and Rick would become her beta. For all his genius, he was an elderly alcoholic. How tough could he possibly be?

"This is gonna be good," mused Summer as the three of them watched through the open window as Beth and Rick readied themselves in the yard, removing any jewelry or loose articles of clothing that had the potential to end up grabbed and pulled. Rick shed his lab coat and shirt, and Beth tied her long hair back into a bun.

"Oh geez," said Morty. "Do Mom and Rick really have to fight? Can't they just, you know, talk it out?"

"Morty, if alphas were the kind of people to 'talk things out,' they wouldn't be alphas in the first place," said Summer.

"Aren't you worried that mom's gonna hurt him?" said Morty. "I mean, he-he-he's gotta be at least, like, sixty."

"I think he mentioned something about being at least seventy," said Summer.

"Didn't the Instagram thing say he was eighty?" said Jerry.

"Instagram thing?" said Summer. "What are you talking about?"

"I was trying to do a fourth wall break like you and Rick," said Jerry.

"Fourth- What?" said Morty. "And what do you mean 'like you and Rick?' Rick's only been here for a few weeks!"

"Yeah," sighed Jerry mournfully. "I guess it doesn't really work inside flashbacks."

"You ready, sweetie?" asked Rick, raising his fists.

"Pffft, of course!" said Beth, who Morty couldn't help but notice didn't sound ready at all. "I mean, who wouldn't be ready to fight their absent father who they haven't seen in years? It's not like I'm afraid you'll leave if I win, or anything!"

"Well, I see where this is going," said Summer, whipping out her phone and turning around to leave the room. "Let me know when it's my turn to get dicked."

"Come on, Summer, don't be ridiculous!" said Jerry, though he sounded nervous. "Your mother isn't going to lose! I bet Rick is just as worried about the idea of hitting his own daugh-"

_WHAM!_

"-ter," concluded Jerry as Beth collapsed to the ground, out cold after just one punch. "Fuck."

Rick took a pull from his flask and directed a thumbs-up at the window that Jerry and Morty were watching through.

"You guys gonna help me drag her inside, or what?" said Rick, belching. Before they got a chance to respond, he continued: "That was a trick question, by the way; you don't get a choice. I'm the alpha now, baby! Get your omega asses out here."

And so, at the behest of their new alpha, the two of them hauled Beth's unconscious body inside to lay her down on the sofa while Rick followed behind with a celebratory margarita he'd pulled out of a portal. As Morty politely draped a blanket over his mother, she began to stir.

"Morty?" said Beth. She began to rub her eyes only to immediately hiss with pain and stop when her knuckles pressed against the fist-sized bruise that had formed around the one Rick had struck.

Jerry wrapped his arms around Beth and hugged her so tightly that the breath was audible squeezed from her lungs.

"It's okay, honey! We understand. He's your father, and you didn't want to hit him. Tomorrow, you can fight him again, and-"

Beth pushed Jerry off of her, looking more relieved than disappointed.

"No," said Beth. "You all saw what happened. Dad won fair and square. There's no point in another fight."

"Well, not if you're just gonna throw them all," said Summer from her spot on the chair nearby.

"Summer!" said Beth scathingly.

"What are you gonna do, subjugate me?" said Summer, who Morty couldn't help but think was taking just a little too much joy out of the whole situation. "Too bad. Grandpa Rick is the alpha now."

"She's got you there, sweetheart," said Rick, chugging his margarita down in a few quick gulps before popping a portal on the wall just so he could throw the glass back through it. "Well, you guys know the drill. Line up, highest rank to lowest."

Beth moved to stand up, but Rick gently pushed her back down on the couch.

"Just the omegas, sweetie. You lay down."

"It's okay, dad, I-"

 _"Lay down,"_ said Rick again, his voice firm. "I'll get you something for your eye as soon as I'm done."

"You can't seriously mean you're gonna do this one after the other," said Jerry. Rick regarded him with a deadpan expression. "Rick?"

"Come on, Jerry, you're first," said Rick, who looked about as unenthused about what was to come as Jerry was. "Let's get this over with."

"What? Wait!" said Jerry as Rick grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him up the stairs. "No! Beth, do something!"

"Quit being a baby, Jerry!" called Beth after him as he was hauled out of sight.

"Oh my God," said Morty, clutching his head. Was he really going to have to have sex with Rick? He was so old, though! What if he died of a heart attack mid-fuck? "Is this really happening?"

Summer shrugged. "Lie back and think of England."

"Don't be so dramatic," said Beth, turning her head away to stare into the sofa. "He knows what he's doing."

"Pfffft, sure."

It wasn't enough for a new alpha to simply beat the old one; their new omegas had to be subjugated in order to finalize the establishment of the new hierarchy. Morty's heart pounded in his chest. He'd never been taken by a male alpha before, and the prospect was a little frightening, but he assured himself that it would be fine. Even if it hurt, it would all be over soon enough.

The minutes ticked away slowly. At some point, Summer flipped on the television, and Morty did his best to divert his focus to the cartoon characters running about the screen in search of crappy cereal, turning the volume up so as to drown out the sound of Jerry's blubbering whimpers until, at long last, the upper floor went quiet.

Rick's voice called out from the top of the stairs:

"Summer, you're next."

Summer switched the television off and cracked her knuckles as she got to her feet. "Bring it on."

Once again, Morty was left to wait in uncomfortable silence. Beth had since left the room to get a glass of wine, leaving him completely and utterly alone with his thoughts. In order to divert his thoughts, he pulled out his phone and began browsing the internet. Unfortunately, his less-than-chaste search history left him inundated with advertisements that did little to distract him from his current predicament.

 _'Sexy, unbred omegas in your area!'_ The accompanying image was of two young, scantily-clad omegas in sexy poses; one male, one female. Standard fare.

 _'Unbred and Untamed: See Ex-Alphas Turned Omega!'_ The picture showed a defiant-looking, sturdily-built woman bound by chains. She still looked like an alpha, but had lost her sharp teeth. Morty wondered just how willingly she had posed for that shot.

 _'Looking to meet someone? Come date pure, unbred omegas at Megapure!'_ Morty snickered. Those websites were always populated almost entirely by desperate singles just barely dominant enough to maintain alpha status. In an age where most people were permitted by their alphas to become betas during their teenage years in order to give them the best possible chance of leading the privileged life of an alpha one day, pure omegas whose dominance index had never been high enough to undergo any changes were highly coveted for their high fertility, slender bodies, and general docility. They didn't need a website to match them up.

"Morty!" called Rick's voice.

Morty swallowed.

It was his turn now.

He stepped gingerly up the stairs as though, if he could just reach the top unheard, Rick might just forget about him and go back to tinkering in the garage as he'd been doing almost every day since he'd first arrived. As always, trying to move quietly only seemed to result in them creaking even louder. Morty dipped his head as he approached his new alpha, who was waiting for him in the hallway. He hadn't bothered to dress himself after his previous conquests, a fact that reddened Morty's cheeks and left him struggling to look at anything but Rick's groin.

It was no use. His eyes immediately locked onto Rick's erect cock, still dripping little white droplets of sperm to the floor below. The knot at the base was still fully engorged; evidently, he'd pulled out of Summer before it had locked into place.

Morty shuddered. He'd always taken comfort in the fact that the dicks and knots in porn were larger than average, and that he'd surely never have to take one of that size himself, but Rick somehow managed to dwarf even those. His cock alone looked big enough to split Morty apart like an overfilled balloon. That knot was liable to kill him.

"We'll use your room," said Rick, as though that were even in question. New alphas always took omegas in their own beds so as to spread their scent and assert themselves over their domain. It served as a reminder that all rooms belonged to the alpha, and that their omega's personal space and belongings were a privilege.

Morty followed Rick into his bedroom, chewing anxiously on his lower lip as his grandfather drew the curtains closed.

"Did Beth not teach you how to dress yourself, or something?" said Rick, turning around and plopping himself down on Morty's bed before patting the spot beside him. "Come on."

"Yeah, I- Sorry," was all he could think to say. With shaky hands, Morty began removing his clothes. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he prayed that Rick wouldn't feel the need to point out all of the physical flaws he was self-conscious about that would normally be covered up by clothes.

"That's what I'm talking about!" said Rick as Morty peeled off his underwear to expose himself. "C'mere, baby. On your knees."

"Oh geez," said Morty. It had been a long time since pre-coital prostration had been commonplace. The act had become more of a niche fetish than an expectation among young people, but there were still plenty of older alphas who expected a submissive bow. He dropped to his knees and dipped forward until his palms and forehead touched the ground.

Funny, it had always looked so erotic in porn. Actually doing it himself just felt awkward and uncomfortable.

He lifted his head upon hearing Rick snickering above him.

"Holy shit, you really did it," he cackled, much to Morty's distress. "Did somebody cut your nuts out as a baby, or something? You know Summer just told me to go fuck myself, right? Even Jerry wouldn't actually get on his fucking knees. Jesus."

Morty did his best to scowl bitterly, but it was difficult not to crack a smile at his own expense; Rick's laughter had broken the tension of the situation, and that was something he elected to be grateful for, dickish as it had been.

Rick grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet before pushing him down onto his back on the bed. He didn't bother with verbal instructions, opting instead to physically manipulate Morty's body into place like he was little more than a person-sized doll. It was the sort of manhandling he was sure that Summer would have objected to, just like she'd declined to bow, but Morty kept his mouth shut. He was just glad to be the center of somebody's attention for once, especially someone as incredible and brilliant as his grandfather. If this was the way that Rick thought he deserved to be treated, who was he to object?

"It's your lucky day, Morty," said Rick as he slipped between Morty's shaking legs and pinched his cheek like a visiting aunt.

"My lucky- What?" said Morty, blinking quizzically up at Rick.

"You get to be my last stop on the Fuck Train today," said Rick, rolling his shoulders and caressing Morty's thigh. "Your dad and Summer both got plugs, but you get the real deal, Morty."

That felt like the exact opposite of luck to Morty, but he held his tongue for fear of offending his alpha.

Morty bit his lip as Rick's hands made their way to his chest, massaging it gently while his thumbs swirled about his nipples. He focused his gaze on Rick's shoulder, too nervous to meet his eyes or, God forbid, his petrifying basilisk of a cock. Alas, it would take far more than a rooster's crow to slay such a fearsome beast; this was a creature that could only be sated by the tight embrace of its favored prey.

"I, uh, I've never actually-" began Morty, struggling to find the words to convey his fears without coming across as stupid or rude.

"-been knotted. Yeah, I got that," said Rick. He pressed his erection against Morty's soft sex and began gently thrusting his hips to rub them together. Morty gasped and gripped at the sheets beneath him, unsure of where to put his hands. "Relax, it's not as hard as it looks. By the time it's in, you'll be good and ready for it, Morty."

Morty responded with a halfhearted nod. He squeezed his eyes shut as the underside of Rick's cock slid against his own. It was a far cry from the feeling of Beth on top of him, clamping down on him tightly and depositing her seed through the slit of his cock, but it wasn't bad. But of course, he hadn't actually been penetrated yet.

Rick leaned down and peppered Morty's face with kisses, an act that left a flustered blush to spread across his face. His grandfather's breath smelled like alcohol, but that was okay; Morty was used to the scent of margaritas and red wine. He responded with a tentative, affectionate lick of Rick's clean-shaven chin.

He froze up as he heard his grandfather begin to snicker.

"Jesus, you-you-you're like the omega to end all omegas," said Rick. "You can take a little initiative without shaking like a freaking vibrator."

"Sorry, I-"

"Shut up, Morty. Ugh, look," said Rick, reaching down to seize Morty's wrists and place them on his shoulders. Morty gripped them loosely. "For starters, keep your hands on me. I'm the one fucking you, not the bed."

"But what if-"

Rick muffled his words with a kiss. Stunned, Morty found himself capable of doing little else but opening his mouth and allowing Rick's vodka-flavored tongue to slide inside, annexing the territory for his own. Morty's eyes fluttered shut as Rick's teeth tugged gently at his lower lip while his hips kept thrusting against Morty's sex and his hands worked their way across his body's erogenous zones. An onslaught of pleasure invaded his body from every angle, leaving him quivering with lust and desire. He could feel the slick dripping from his throbbing entrance and soaking the blankets below.

"R-rick," he moaned as Rick broke the kiss and began sucking and lapping at Morty's chest and neck.

"Yeah, you like that?" said Rick with a cocky grin as Morty gasped for breath beneath him. "Come on, spread your legs a little further. Let grandpa see how wet you are."

By this point, Morty was aroused enough to numb his insecurity about the appearance of his ass and genitals, so he parted his legs as he'd been asked to do without hesitation or complaint.

"That's it," said Rick encouragingly, moving his hand between Morty's legs and pressing his fingertip to Morty's entrance. "Stay nice and relaxed for me."

Morty whimpered as Rick's long, bony finger slid easily inside of him. It was a peculiar, mildly uncomfortable sensation, and he wasn't sure if he really liked it or not, but his grandfather seemed to know what he was doing.

"That's it, baby," said Rick, and Morty squirmed beneath him as he curled his finger up into a 'come hither' sort of motion. In the process, it pressed against something incredibly pleasant inside of him, and he moaned out before he could stop himself. "You can do it, Morty."

A second finger slipped its way inside of him, and then another. Morty's breathing was completely ragged by this point; one would think he'd just finished running a marathon by the way he was panting and gasping for breath as Rick readied him for subjugation. He hadn't expected such care and patience from an elderly alcoholic, especially one that had supposedly walked out on his mother over seventeen years ago to do whatever it was that deadbeat dads did when they were neglecting their kids.

A part of him was instinctively wary about this fact. 'This is a bad alpha,' the most primal part of his mind told him. 'He won't be a good provider for your children.' That was fine, though. It wasn't like Rick was actually going to breed him. He was Morty's alpha, not his mate. This was just to establish dominance.

Rick spread his fingers apart inside of him, and Morty cried out. Holy _shit._

"There we go; nice and wet for me," purred Rick, pressing another series of sloppy kisses all over Morty's body as he pulled out his fingers, wiping them off on the blankets, and gripped Morty's hips. The knot at the base of his cock had gone down on the interim, but Morty knew it would return with a vengeance when Rick came inside of him later; the thought alone sent blood rushing to his face.

"I don't know if I can do this, Rick," said Morty shakily as Rick lined himself up with his dripping hole. "Y-y-you- It's a lot bigger than your fingers."

"You're gonna be fine, Morty. Just take a deep breath," said Rick, gripping Morty's hips and starting to push. Morty shuddered as the head entered his body. It already felt like he was being stretched far beyond his limit. "Don't hold it. Keep breathing."

"Rick, I-I-I can't, I don't- It's too much!"

Morty squeezed his eyes shut as Rick pressed further inside, forcing his way through his taut hole. It was just so big; he couldn't take it! It was going to tear him apart! In a panic, he pushed back on Rick's chest.

"No, Rick, I-"

"Sssssh, hold onto me, Morty," said Rick, pausing to move Morty's tense hands back to his shoulders, where his nails dug into his flesh. "Don't let go. Come on, keep breathing. In and out. It's only hurting 'cause you're too tense."

In and out. In and out. Morty groaned and arched his back as Rick slid further and further into him. In and out, in and out, in and out! How was he supposed to relax when he knew it was only going to get worse when Rick knotted him? Why couldn't he get a plug like Jerry and Summer?

"Fine, I guess- Looks like it's time to cheat," said Rick. He wrapped his hand around Morty's half-hard sex and began to pump it up and down with his hand. Morty bit his lip. This was a much more familiar sensation. He relaxed his hands where they were sitting on Rick's shoulders and took a few deep breaths, trying to focus on the pleasure of Rick's hand around his sex over the cock stabbing into his body.

"Rick," gasped Morty. He turned his head to the side, embarrassed by the stupid faces he knew he must have been making and wanting to spare Rick the sad sight. It was bad enough that he'd required such a significant time investment to prepare; he didn't want to risk turning his grandfather off and forcing them to try again later. "Mm! S-sorry!"

"The hell are you apologizing for?" asked Rick, coming to a halt.

Morty swallowed. He knew better than to think he was attractive enough for anyone to actually enjoy having sex with. Once Rick laid claim to his body, he would probably try to avoid unnecessary contact for the next month or two until he absolutely had to be subjugated again to keep his hormones in check.

"Wasting your time," he murmured, bringing one arm down to cover his face. Rick probably just wanted to get this whole thing over with as soon as possible, and here he was extending things with his nonsense.

"Jesus. If I'd known your ego was gonna be this small, I'd have brought a microscope," said Rick, reaching down to straighten Morty's head.

"Why'd you stop?" asked Morty.

"Look down, dummy," said Rick. "It's in. You were too busy wallowing in self pity to notice."

Morty glanced downwards. It was as Rick had said; he was fully sheathed to the hilt. His blushing cheeks grew brighter still. How had he missed that?

"Ready?" asked Rick, and Morty nodded, knowing he'd already made Rick wait far too long. "Alright, here we go!"

He pulled his hips back, and his cock slid uncomfortably out of Morty's body before pushing slowly back inside. Morty did his best to regulate his breathing as Rick began to move his hips at a steady pace.

"That's it. You're doing great, Morty," said Rick, kissing Morty's forehead. Morty smiled bashfully despite himself. "That's it. Keep breathing."

Morty panted as Rick's thick cock began to create a pleasant internal stimulation. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, creating a strange new kind of pleasure that had him squirming and moaning with need. Beth hadn't been kidding when she'd said he knew what he was doing. As Rick began to quicken his pace, Morty's grip on his shoulders began to grow slack; instead, he wrapped his arms around the back of Rick's neck, moaning beneath an onslaught of tender kisses.

"Come on, baby," said Rick. "Tell me who your alpha is."

"Rick!" he cried out again. "Rick, Rick, _Rick!"_

"Mm, yeah, that's right," said Rick, licking Morty's cheek. Morty shivered, but this time, it was in a good way. "You're mine now, Morty. We're gonna do great things together, you'll see!"

Morty was too incoherent to respond. The dual stimulation of his cock and ass was too much for him to handle; slick sputtered out onto Rick's hand as he came.

He struggled to catch his breath while Rick continued to thrust into his body. The pain had long since dissipated, but it was still a bit of a strange feeling to have something thrusting in and out of him that he was too tired to find pleasurable. Sure enough, though, as Rick bit his lip and tightened his grip on Morty's hips, he could feel the base of his cock beginning to swell. This was it; the moment of truth. Morty squeezed his eyes shut as Rick's knot began stretching him to maximum capacity, locking itself into place while his seed raced to Morty's eggless cervix.

After a time, Morty opened one eye.

"Is-is that it?"

"What'd I tell you?" said Rick. "You've just gotta relax."

Morty stared down at the space Rick was occupying between his legs, his hole still filled to bursting, and frowned.

"So, uh, how long are we stuck like this for?"

Rick kissed his cheek. "About fifteen minutes. Get comfortable."

"Oh geez," said Morty.

And yet, despite the awkwardness of it all, as Rick smiled down at him and tenderly stroked his cheek, Morty found himself feeling optimistic about the future. Sure, his new alpha was a deadbeat dad who'd abandoned his family, but he'd come back, and it sure seemed like he must have regretted his actions if he was trying to reconnect with his family. For that matter, he was every bit as brilliant as Beth had always claimed he was when she got drunk enough on wine to start telling stories about her father; Morty had always assumed she was exaggerating, but that had been before he'd seen Rick single-handedly create a hovering coffee-delivery robot to ingratiate himself to a reluctant Jerry. Sure, he was clearly an alcoholic, but nobody was perfect, and Morty was used to dealing with intoxicated family members.

Yes, Morty decided, living with Rick as his new alpha was looking to be pretty damn good so far. An awkward teenager and an old scientist… It was the perfect set-up to a fun sci-fi sitcom. He could hardly imagine the wacky hijinks to come!

* * *

 

The first day that he went to school after Rick took his anal virginity was also the first day that Rick stopped by to take him out of it.

As Morty strolled down the halls, his books clutched tightly to his chest, he did his best to ignore the curious stares and sniffs of the people he passed by. It was no mystery what they were wondering about; his scent had changed from a mixture of his and Beth's to that of his and Rick's. A student smelling like a new alpha was always cause for gossip, since it was usually indicative of some kind of drama going on back home. For Morty, however, it was a new beginning. He couldn't wait to get back home and see what his grandfather had made in the garage today.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as a massive, swirling green oval noisily popped up in front of him, stumbling backwards until he fell flat on his ass, which was still sore from the previous day. His heart raced as a figure with what appeared to be some kind of gun in his hand stepped out of the portal. Who-

"Morty!"

"Rick?" said Morty, stunned. What was his grandfather doing here?

"I need your help with something, Morty!" said Rick, his tone full of urgency. "The-the-the fate of the galaxiverse is in our hands, Morty!"

"Oh geez, Rick!" said Morty. "What-what's a galaxiverse?"

"I meant 'universe,' Morty," said Rick stiffly. "You know that thing where you start to say one word, but the one you were thinking of before comes out? We've all done it, Morty. You don't get to judge me."

"I, uh, I wasn't judging, Rick, I just wasn't sure if-"

"No time, Morty! Come on!"

And with that, Rick grabbed Morty by the ankle and dragged him through the portal to his first adventure. It was the sort of thing that always looked fun in the movies, but by the time Morty got home that night, his chest still hurting from the strain of running for his life from a horde of monstrous pillows with fangs, he found that he could do nothing but flop down onto his bed (after locking his pillow away in the closet, of course) and cry himself to sleep.

Things only got crazier as time went on. The sheer insanity of their adventures kept ramping up, almost as though Rick felt some twisted need to continuously outdo himself. Over the course of only a couple weeks, he began to drag Morty out of school with greater frequency for far more inconsequential reasons. 'Come on, Morty, I need your help to save the universe' became 'Come on, Morty, I need someone to hold my beer while I show this hot chick a kick-ass flip.' It was enough to make Morty miss the days of peaceful mediocrity.

And then, just when Morty was sure his life had already hit rock bottom, it got even worse somehow when, one day, Rick walked in on him masturbating.

"Morty, I need your help in the garage," said Rick, pushing open the partially ajar door.

"Just-just a second, Rick," said Morty with his pants off, laptop open, and cock in hand. It was common courtesy to let a person mid-jerk finish up before you got them to do something else. Morty had had no reason to suspect that this would go any differently. He sped the pace of his hand as the muscular alpha on the screen pounded roughly into the squealing omega beneath him.

"Now, Morty," said Rick, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot impatiently. "That's an order from your Alpha."

"I'm almost done!" insisted Morty, doing his best to speed things up. "O-oh, fuck, hah…"

He yelped as Rick slammed the laptop shut and hoisted him up off of the bed.

"Oh, come on, Rick!" he whined, struggling to free himself from his alpha's grip. "Don't-don't give me blue balls!"

"Is that what you're worried about?" said Rick, sounding irritated. "When I tell you to come, you come, Morty!" Morty couldn't hold back a childish snicker from the unfortunate terminology. "For all you know, Earth could be twenty seconds from blowing up like an overfilled balloon, but at least you wouldn't get blue-balled, right?"

Morty dipped his head, embarrassed. When he put it that way... "Oh geez. Sorry, Rick."

"It's fine, Morty," said Rick with a dismissive hand-wave as he led a still-pantsless Morty down to the garage and began fishing through some boxes. "You're at that age now. I get it. I've got just the thing."

"You have a cure for blue balls?" said Morty, still blissfully ignorant of just what he'd gotten himself into.

"Something like that," said Rick, pulling a metal mechanism from the box.

It took Morty a moment to recognize the object, but when he did, his eyes went wide, and he took several steps backwards.

"No," he said, shaking his head vigorously. "No way!"

"Did-did you hear me ask your opinion? 'cause I sure as hell don't remember giving you a choice," said Rick, unlocking the chastity belt and stepping closer.

"Rick, please!" said Morty, his back pressed to the wall as he covered his groin protectively. The metal pocket in the front where his cock was clearly supposed to go was completely sealed off save for a small grate at the tip to allow urine to pass through. "I-I-I don't need a chastity belt! I'll come as soon as you tell me to next time, promise!"

"Morty, don't make me use a stock line," said Rick.

Morty squeezed his legs together.

"God damn it, you're making me use the stock line," grumbled Rick. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Either you stand up straight and move your hands out of the way while I put this on, or I knock you out with a stun gun and do it anyway."

Reluctantly, Morty raised his hands and took a small step forward. Rick wrapped the belt around his waist and raised the shield up over Morty's half-hard cock, fully encasing it in stainless steel before snapping it shut.

_Click!_

The device locked into place, and Morty was left to palm uselessly at the stiff bulge covering his groin. It was well padded and perfectly comfortable to wear, but he was already beginning to feel an uncomfortable ache in his testicles from his denied orgasm. This total seizure of his sexual autonomy bothered him greatly, and he was already desperate to recoup the loss.

"This is just temporary, right?" he asked hopefully. Surely Rick didn't mean to disallow him from masturbating ever again. "You'll take it off later?"

"I'll leave the key to you in my will," said Rick, waving the key in front of Morty's despairing face before sliding it onto a necklace, fastening it to his neck, and concealing it under his blue shirt. "Don't try fingering yourself, either. There's a force field that'll liquefy almost anything that goes through it, and I don't want to be stuck in here for an hour regrowing digits, Morty. Fingers are a pain in the ass to fix without losing any of their precision."

Morty dipped his head. What could he do? The only way to disobey his alpha would be to challenge him, and he couldn't fight Rick.

"So, uh, what'd you need me to do, anyway?" he murmured, figuring it must have been important for Rick to be so upset about him taking too long to get there.

"The garage light keeps flickering," said Rick, dragging a stepladder to the center of the room. "I need you to hold this while I go up there and fix it."

Or not.

* * *

 

Upon dropping the ship back off at home, the first thing Rick did was pop a portal on the wall.

"Wait, so if we weren't taking the car anyway, why didn't you just portal to school to pick me up?" asked Morty.

"Because then I wouldn't have had anything to fuck you over."

Morty's cheeks practically glowed red. Fair enough.

He followed Rick through the portal like a diligent duckling, fully expecting something bizarre or terrifying to greet them on the other side. What would it be this time? Some random asshole in a tree shrieking at them to get out of his world? A morbidly obese blob king with virtual reality goggles for a heart? A skeletal instrument that got off on being played? The possibilities were endless.

Their actual destination turned out to be far more mundane, and yet somehow equally concerning. Morty looked around with surprise to find himself in a garage much like the one they'd just portaled out of. Everything looked exactly the same, but the scent was off; it smelled like unclaimed, neutral territory, rather than the familiar and comforting musk of his grandfather.

Morty had been through enough interdimensional shenanigans to have a pretty good idea of what was up. "Is this our house in another dimension?"

"If you've figured it out, why are you still asking?" said Rick as the portal vanished behind them. He whipped out his phone and quickly tapped out a text message to someone. After a moment of waiting, his phone dinged to indicate a response. "Alright, looks like their Beth, Jerry, and Summer aren't home, so we're meeting in the living room. Come on."

The two of them made their way to the room in question, where another Rick and Morty appeared to have already made themselves comfortable on the sofa. The other Morty wore an entirely pink shirt with a picture of a unicorn's face on the front. He also appeared to be wearing makeup, if his peachy cheeks were any indication. His Rick's lab coat was made almost entirely of white feathers.

"About time you showed up," said the other Rick. "You got the goods?"

"Mine's taken care of," said Rick, pulling a vial of yellow liquid out of his pocket and handing it to his counterpart. Morty recognized the faint scent of alpha pheromones inside of it. Was that Rick's urine? Why would anyone want that? "You might want to get my Morty a few glasses of water. It's gonna be hard to squeeze it out of him, otherwise."

"Wait, what?" said Morty.

"Great," sighed the other Rick. "Looks like we're gonna be here awhile. Morty, go get a full pitcher of water for Omega."

Morty recoiled reflexively. Only an omega's alphas and betas could straight-up call their omegas by that title like it was a name. For another alpha to do so was the same as staking a claim. It was an act of challenge, like scent-marking another alpha's territory; 'This is mine now. Fight me for it.'

"Relax, Morty," said Rick. Morty's jaw dropped. There was no way his alpha was just going to take that lying down! He'd seen Rick throw down over far, far tinier slights. "It's a different dimension. It doesn't mean the same thing here." He gestured to the other Rick, then the other Morty, who had stood up to go get that pitcher of water like his Rick had asked. "When everybody's got the same name, you've gotta use dimension numbers or nicknames to keep things straight. This is Feather Rick, and that's Unicorn Chaser Morty. You can just call them Feather and Unicorn. As far as other Ricks and Mortys are concerned, we're Alpha and Omega."

"Aww, baby's first meeting with other versions of himself?" cooed Feather mockingly. "Geez, Alpha, you couldn't give the kid a heads-up?"

Hearing the other Rick refer to his own as 'Alpha' was equally strange, especially so soon after calling him Omega. Referring to an alpha by that title was a demonstration of submission; 'I'm yours. Do with me as you will.' An alpha would only use it to indicate that they were yielding a fight.

"It was gonna be a culture shock either way," said Rick, plonking himself down on one of the nearby chairs. "Morty, sit."

"Yes, Alpha," said Morty, looking around. The only other chair was on the opposite side of the room, but deliberately sitting too far from his alpha so shortly after being disciplined for disobedience had the potential to look like an act of further rebelliousness, so he opted to seat himself on the floor at Rick's feet to nuzzle his face against his legs.

"Jesus," said Feather, cackling like he'd just witnessed something hilarious. "Your dimension is something special, alright."

"What's that mean?" asked Morty just as his counterpart, Unicorn, returned with a water pitcher.

"Why're you on the floor?" asked Unicorn, setting the pitcher down. "Is-is that normal in your dimension? Rick, is that normal in their dimension?"

"What, you didn't tell him about us?" said Rick. "Now who's the one not giving their Morty a heads-up?"

Feather grimaced. "The less he knows about your world, the better."

"Hey!" said Unicorn, annoyed. "Do they- Are chairs against their religion, or something?"

"Don't ask what you don't want to know, Morty," said Feather. "And trust me, you don't want to know."

"Wait, what's so bad about our dimension, Rick?" said Morty, staring up at his alpha with wide, curious eyes. The other Rick and Morty were the ones who didn't smell right.

"Believe it or not, Morty, most dimensions don't have the same attitudes about sex as ours does," said Rick, reaching down to ruffle his hair. "They're super weird about it. You-you-you can show a person getting murdered in a PG-13 film, and that's fine, but God forbid they show a boob."

"What?" said Morty. That was one of the strangest things he'd ever heard. And Rick was saying that most dimensions were like that? "Seriously?"

"So your universe has, like, super liberal ideas about sex, or something?" said Unicorn. "Why's that such a bad thing?"

"It's not," said Feather with a resigned 'looks like it can't be helped' sigh. "It's the rest of it that's fucked up. Go ahead, Morty. Ask Omega what 'rape' is."

As Unicorn's face went pale, Morty frowned. "What's that?"

"See? No concept of the word," said Feather. "Omega, tell Unicorn why you're on the floor right now."

"Oh, uh…" began Morty, embarrassed. "I, umm…"

"Morty, start drinking the water," said Rick, shooting a glare at Feather. Morty carefully took the pitcher and began to drink as much as he was able. "Look, asshole, if we're upsetting your delicate sensibilities, we can leave."

"Relax, you're free to be God-damned freaks here," said Feather. "Just don't expect me not to judge you for it."

"Oh, great. Glad I got your permission," said Rick sarcastically. He patted his lap while continuing to look Feather dead in the eye. "Morty, up."

Morty didn't hesitate to climb up into Rick's lap to snuggle against his chest.

"Oh, gross!" said Unicorn, stepping behind the sofa and visibly gagging. Morty froze and began to assess the state of his clothing. Had he sat in something or spilled something on it? What was Unicorn talking about? "What the hell?"

"It's normal in their universe," said Feather, looking equally grossed out. "Rule of thumb; if they're living together, they're fucking."

As Rick's hands slid up his shirt, Morty regarded Feather with a surprised look of his own.

"You guys don't have sex?" said Morty. How did they establish dominance? More importantly, how did they live? It was bad enough that he was stuck in a chastity belt and couldn't masturbate. He didn't even want to imagine a life where he couldn't copulate with his alpha. That sounded like torture. "What about when you go into heat?"

"Heat?" said Unicorn. "You mean like-like a dog?"

"They don't get heats," said Rick. "There aren't any alphas or omegas here, or in most dimensions, for that matter. As far as biological sex goes, you're either male or female. Males produce sperm, females produce eggs."

"And-and you're just stuck with what you're born with?" said Morty, galvanized.

"Well, there are people who identify as a gender other than what they were born with, but for the most part, yeah," said Feather. "Of course, women here are actually allowed to vote, so…"

"That's a relatively recent fucking development for you guys, and it isn't even true everywhere," said Rick, scowling. "Women have always been equal in our dimension. It's omegas that can't vote, and if they want it bad enough, they can always become alphas. Not that it matters while the electoral college is still a thing, but yeah."

"Sure, the smaller, weaker omegas can get rights if they manage to beat up the bigger, stronger alphas," said Feather. "It's like how they convince poor people not to tax the rich 'cause it might be them up there someday. You guys pacify omegas with the idea that they could become alphas, hold up a handful of success stories as proof that it's possible, and convince them not to rise up despite being the vast majority of the population because maybe one day they'll get to be the ones raping a harem of their own."

There was that word again.

"You still haven't actually explained what 'rape' means," said Morty.

"Oh my God!" said Unicorn, clutching his hair. "So you're saying he- your Rick, he just- he fucks you? Even when you don't want it? And everyone is just _completely cool_ with that?"

"Uh, yeah, duh," said Morty, not quite seeing the issue. "He's my alpha. Are you saying your Rick would stop just 'cause you didn't want it?"

"My Rick wouldn't fuck me in the first place!" shrieked Unicorn.

"Okay, buddy, this is clearly too much for you to handle," said Feather, standing up to place a hand on Unicorn's shoulder only to have it slapped away. It was an act of such brazen rebelliousness that it made Morty's jaw drop a little. The idea of actually striking his Rick, even if only gently, was completely incomprehensible to him.

"Don't touch me!" said Unicorn, visibly shaking. Morty winced on his counterpart's behalf. He was really going to get it now. Did he really think that he could actually-

Feather pulled his hand away and took a step back.

"Morty, relax," said Feather.

"What- You're not gonna subjugate him?" said Morty. He could feel the rumble of his own Rick straining to hold back a laugh beneath him, as well he should; alpha or not, the idea of the person who was supposedly in charge allowing their underlings to get away with ordering them to back off was patently absurd. Such weakness made for a poor leader, and Morty couldn't help but pity his counterpart for having to live under such terrible guidance. "Like, aren't you gonna at least hit him, or something?"

It was at this point that Unicorn made a face brimming with such disgust and despair that one could practically see his soul escaping through his tear ducts. Or, well, actually, perhaps those were just tears. Feather waved a hand in front of his face, but got no response.

"Great. You broke him," said Feather, sliding his fingers down from his temples to his chin with an exasperated sigh. He pulled out his portal gun and popped one underneath Unicorn, who snapped out of his emotional blue screen just long enough to let out a startled yelp before he plummeted down into the swirling green vortex below him.

"Where'd you send him?" asked Morty. Perhaps he was punishing Unicorn, after all. His own Rick had portaled him to the Arctic to 'cool off' for a few minutes the last time he'd gotten too mouthy.

"Back to school. No point keeping him here if he's just gonna freak out and be useless," said Feather, taking a long pull from his flask. "Now hurry up and drink some more water. I'm not gonna lie, I don't want to look at you freaks any longer than I have to."

Morty turned to his own Rick. Even if they were on Feather's territory, taking orders from such a weak leader was beneath even him. It was best to wait for his actual alpha's command.

"Morty, drink the water," said Rick, pushing Morty off of his lap. "I don't want to be stuck with this pussy any longer than I have to, either."

Under the orders of his infinitely more respectable superior, Morty did his best to down as much water from the pitcher as he possibly could, drinking and drinking until he could feel the water swishing about in his stomach. He still wasn't entirely sure what the point of this was, but good omegas didn't question their alphas, lest they find themselves with a necklace of disciplinary bite marks.

"He really just does whatever the fuck you say, doesn't he?" said Feather, the faintest twinge of envy in his voice.

"Damn straight," said Rick proudly, beckoning for Morty to return to his side. Morty beamed as Rick reached up to pet his head. It felt good to be shown off and held up as an example to which other Mortys ought to aspire. "Yours would, too, if you kept him in line."

"Gross," said Feather, reaching into his feathery lab coat to retrieve a cylindrical beaker. "Look, this is ridiculous. There's gotta be something in his bladder that he can squeeze out. Just have him piss into the cup already so I can get back to work, and you can get back to your incest and ass wombs."

"Wh-what?" said Morty. "Why do I have to pee in the cup?"

"Your universe may be a freak show, but the pheromones you guys excrete are still useful," said Feather. "I'd go get some samples myself, but people from normal dimensions stick out like a mutated thumb in yours. Apparently you assholes can smell the difference."

Morty wrinkled his nose. They did indeed smell incredibly strange to him, but he'd been too polite to say as much.

"Well, it's worth a try, I guess," said Rick. "Piss in the cup, Morty."

"Right here?" said Morty, swallowing. There was no way he could do that, even if Rick asked.

"I thought you guys didn't mind showing off your dicks," said Feather.

"We don't," said Rick. "It's a dominance thing. You don't piss in front of your alpha. It's-it's-it's considered a challenge."

Feather smacked his palm against his forehead. "Then go to the bathroom!"

Rick unscrewed the lid of his flask. "Omegas don't just leave their alpha's side in a stranger's territory. That's considered 'wandering through a dark alley at night'-level stupid back in our world."

"Oh, for the love of- Then piss back in your dimension!"

"Wouldn't you know it? I've only got enough portal fluid left for a one-way trip back to our home dimension," said Rick, clearly relishing in his counterpart's misery. "And I'd bet you anything that the portal you used to send your Morty back to school was the last shot in yours, too. We may be from different worlds, but one thing that holds true across all dimensions is that portal guns are always either missing or out of juice when it's convenient to the plot. Looks like we'll just have to wait until it's physically impossible for him to hold it anymore."

"I swear to whatever God you don't believe in that if this is all just an elaborate scheme to fulfill your watersports kink, I'm done," said Feather.

"Watersports?" said Morty. "Like swimming and kayaking?"

Feather pulled up the couch cushion to reveal a stash of bottles of alcohol, one of which he promptly uncorked and began to chug.

* * *

 

It had been a little over an hour since they'd arrived, during which time Feather had boozed up enough to quit complaining about how 'weird' their dimension supposedly was. On its own, that would be good news.

Unfortunately, drunk Ricks (or, rather, EXTRA drunk Ricks) could be quite unbearable.

"So why is your lab coat made of feathers, anyway?" Morty had made the mistake of asking as an Interdimensional Cable commercial he'd already seen droned on in the background.

Feather, who was so wasted that his body was visibly swaying back and forth even though he was seated, had immediately gone off on a fumbled, nonsensical tangent about someone named Birdperson. From the occasional broken sobs and mentions of weaponry, Morty managed to put together that it was some kind of a memento of his fallen friend.

Morty squirmed uncomfortably in his Rick's lap. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold things in.

"Ready to give it a try?" said Rick, jerking his head in the direction of the cup while Feather babbled on in the background. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get out of here."

"I-I don't know if I can," said Morty as Rick reached around his waist to unbutton his pants and pull down his underwear, exposing the steel of his chastity belt. Even under his alpha's orders, years of social conditioning screamed at him to hold it in. Scent-marking was the domain of alphas, and it wasn't unheard of for instinct to take over and send them into a territorial rage to quash what they perceived as competition. There was a very real risk of Rick losing control and beating him up.

"It'll be fine, Morty, trust me," said Rick.

Reluctant as he was, Morty knew they weren't leaving until he peed in that cup, so he reluctantly got to his feet and placed the cup under the grate of his chastity belt. His bladder was full to bursting, but years of societal conditioning weren't easily overcome.

"Ugh, that's it, hold still," said Rick, getting up to stand behind Morty and wrap his arms around his waist like he was about to to do the Heimlich maneuver. Morty squeaked out as Rick squeezed his waist. The pressure against his bladder proved more than enough to open the floodgates, filling the cup in moments. "There."

"Oh geez," said Morty, unable to help the wave of anxiety that filled him as he set the cup down on the coffee table. As Rick released him, he immediately took several steps away. The mounting tension of his alpha was growing increasingly visible; his fingers were shaking like he was preparing to either close them into fists or claw someone's eyes out, and his shoulders were squared. "Rick, come on, let's get out of here before the scent starts to-"

"Don't-" said Rick in a low growl. "-tell me what to do."

Morty dipped his head and made his best effort to look as small as possible. "Yes, Alpha!"

"What are you, some-some-some kind of-URP-animal?" belched Feather. Morty jumped; he'd gotten so used to his incoherent blubbering in the background that he'd almost forgotten he was there. "Some Rick you are. A little piss is all it takes to make you lose all your faculties."

Morty froze as Rick directed his gaze to Feather. Didn't he know better than to antagonize an alpha on the verge of a frenzy? Wait, no, of course he didn't; there were no alphas in his universe. Morty frantically gestured for him to shut up, but his body language went unheeded.

"I mean, geez," said Feather. "What are you, an elephant in musth? How-how-how the fuck has your dimension even managed to-"

All at once, Rick surged forward to wrap his hands around Feather's throat.

Feather screamed out in surprise and immediately began attempting to shove Rick off of him. "What the fuck?"

"He's in a rut!" said Morty, keeping his distance. "You've gotta yield the fight!"

He hated it when this happened. Rick always got so rough when he rutted, and for whatever reason, it was always Morty who had to put up with the brunt of it. The last time he'd gotten like this, he'd fucked Morty almost non-stop for two days, stopping only to sleep. At one point, Morty had made the mistake of trying to sneak out of the room to get something to eat only to be thrown back down on the bed and brutalized until the sun rose. Since the length of a rut was generally tied to the number of omegas in a household, most alphas bounced around between conquests, but Rick only ever had interest in Morty, even when Summer had attempted to offer herself up so that he could take a break to go get breakfast. In the end, he'd had to settle for whatever food was brought to him by his family that he could eat on his hands and knees while he was knotted.

"Like hell I'm gonna yield to this motherfucker!" growled Feather, knocking Rick off of him with a solid kick. Alpha or not, it seemed Ricks weren't the sort to give in easily. "Yeah, how do you like- AGH!"

Feather cried out as Rick bit down on his leg. Morty winced from afar.

"You _bit_ me!" said Feather incredulously as Rick rose to his feet and attempted to claw at his face. "What the fuck?"

Morty grimaced. In his dimension, it was a well-known fact of life that one fought however they needed to in order to win. There was no such thing as a cheap tactic, and as long as you stopped if your opponent yielded the fight, it was completely legal to battle it out to the death.

"Tell him you give in!" said Morty. "Seriously, he'll kill you!"

"Fuck that!" growled Feather, doing his best to wrestle his way out from beneath Rick, but the combination of alcohol and the distinct lack of the extra muscle possessed by alphas put him at a serious disadvantage. "Get off!"

Morty gritted his teeth. If he didn't do something, this fight was going to end with Feather dead.

"Oh geez…" he murmured. If he couldn't get Feather to yield the fight, he was just going to have to redirect his grandfather's aggression to someone who would. "Here-here-here goes nothing."

With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Morty reached around his grandfather from behind and yanked the portal gun from the inner pocket of his lab coat.

"Rick!" said Morty, popping a portal back to their home dimension on the wall and waving his arms in front of it. "I stole your portal gun!"

Rick spun around to growl at Morty, who was glad he'd relieved himself into the cup earlier, lest his grandfather's furious glare cause him to piss his pants.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" said Morty as Rick charged at him. He dove through the portal into the living room of his home dimension, where the rest of his family was currently seated on the couch watching television. How predictable.

"Morty?" said Beth as Morty scrambled to his feet, eager to get as far away from the portal as possible. "Where's-"

Rick burst through the portal like a monster from the abyss and tackled Morty to the ground in a single leap, knocking the portal gun out of his hands and sending it skidding across the floor.

"Oh," said Beth, taking a sip of her wine and returning her attention to the television.

"I give up!" cried Morty, shielding his face with his arms. _"I give up!_ I'm sorry, Alpha! I'm yours!"

"This again?" groaned Summer. "Isn't this, like, the fifth time you guys have come back from an adventure with grandpa in a rut? First it was the jellybean guy trying to make a move on you, then it was the tentacle monster…"

When Rick pinned his wrists to the ground, Morty squeezed his eyes shut and fell as limp, tipping his chin upwards to expose his neck.

 _"Mine,"_ hissed Rick, dragging his tongue up along Morty's throat. The spikes of his pale blue hair brushed against Morty's nose, filling his nostrils with alpha pheromones that made his groin throb with desire.

Morty breathed a sigh of relief as the portal closed behind them. With his surrender accepted, he bucked his hips upwards, grinding his covered crotch against Rick's and moaning softly even as his chastity belt prevented him from experiencing the friction.

"Alpha," he gasped as Rick began pulling off his clothes. There was no getting out from under a rutting alpha; it was best to just enjoy it while it lasted. "More!"

"Ugh, Morty, did you have to bring him to the living room?" complained Summer. "They're playing the Ball Fondlers finale!"

"Just turn the volume up," suggested Beth.

Morty blushed as he was stripped bare, his grandfather yanking so hard at the ankles of his pants that they came off before he could get around to lifting his hips. Within seconds, there was nothing left on his body except the metal chastity belt that was growing increasingly unbearable with every passing second that the blood raced for his cock. His erection strained painfully against the cold, unforgiving steel.

"Rick, the belt!" he said desperately as Rick unbuttoned his own pants, fearful that his grandfather might very well forget to unlock it. "Please!"

He whined as Rich nipped one of his nipples, his sharp teeth stopping just short of drawing blood.

"The belt comes off when _I_ say so, Morty!"

"B-but-" said Morty, toes curling from a combination of pleasure and pain. In that moment, he would have sold his very soul to free his cock from its confines, but there was nothing he could do. He was Rick's omega to do with as he pleased. "Hnngh! Oh, fuck, please, _please!"_

He held his breath as Rick's teeth grazed his throat.

"When. I. _Say so,"_ said Rick.

Frustrated tears welled up in Morty's eyes. "Yes, Alpha."

"Jerry," sighed Beth. "Go throw Morty's clothes in the laundry."

"What? Why do I have to be the one who goes over there?" complained Jerry. Beth shot him a glare. "Fine, but if I end up losing a hand again because of one of your father's out-of-control ruts, it's on you!"

As Jerry moved in to quickly grab the discarded clothing that Rick had tossed to the side, Morty made the mistake of daring to glance over at his father. Rick had never been one to take being ignored lightly, even if only for a split second. Without warning, Morty found himself yanked upwards and thrown down onto his back on the coffee table, sending everything that had been sitting on top of it flying to the floor. Fortunately, the carpet cushioned the fall of Beth's wine glass to keep it from shattering. Unfortunately, its contents had been spilled across the fabric.

"Jesus!" said Jerry. "I just finished cleaning the last stain out of that carpet!"

"If you want to get a job instead, Jerry, I've already signed the permission slip," said an exasperated Beth, picking up the glass before it ended up stepped on.

"Maybe I will!"

"Oh, screw this, I'll just stream it later," sighed Summer as Morty's legs were pushed back up over his head, blocking her view of the television. She passed the remote control to Beth, then headed off up the stairs to her room.

"When does the belt come off?" growled Rick into Morty's ear, and, still dazed by the impact, it took Morty a long moment to process the question.

"Wh-when Alpha says so!" he said, his eyes lighting up with hope as Rich reached for the key hanging around his neck. Finally!

"That's right," said Rick, pulling the necklace off and dangling it in front of Morty's face as though to taunt him. "You cum when I say you can. You do what I tell you to do!"

"Yes, Alpha!" said Morty, nodding his head even as every instinct in his body screamed at him to grab the key. Instead, he gripped the edges of the coffee table.

"That's right," said Rick. At long last, he brought the key down to the lock of Morty's belt. The latch released with a satisfying _click,_ allowing the device to finally, _finally_ be pulled off of Morty's weeping cock.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" cried Morty, wildly grinding his sensitive erection against Rick's far larger one. His entrance was already dripping with slick, all too eager to service his alpha. "Please, Rick, grandpa, _Alpha!_ I-I-I need it so bad!"

"Please don't break the coffee table again," said Jerry. "I really like this one!"

 _"Oh,_ yes! _Yes!"_ said Morty as Rick pushed the tip of his sex against his entrance. Morty closed his eyes and bit his lip.

_Shlurk!_

In a single thrust, Rick buried himself entirely inside of his waiting hole, filling him to the brim and overwhelming him with wonderful feelings that came only with his alpha's permission. Morty moaned and writhed with delight, wrapping his legs around Rick and pushing his hips back to force himself further down on his grandfather's sizable cock. The first few times might have been hard, but he'd come to love the way it stretched him so nicely, pleasuring him from the inside in ways he couldn't pleasure himself. It was hard not to become addicted to his sole source of sexual release.

"That's it," said Rick, already beginning to thrust his hips. "You like that."

It wasn't spoken like a question; it was spoken like a statement of fact. Morty nodded as best he could in his state. He was already losing himself to bliss, his jaw slack as he twisted and wheezed beneath his alpha.

"Please, Rick, harder!" begged Morty, and Rick obliged, taking him by the hips and pounding into him like it was their last time together. Each thrust carried with it a desperation born of powerful hormones carefully honed over millions of years of evolution. "Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Morty!" scolded Beth. "Use your indoor voice!"

"S-sorry, mom!" said Morty, only to cry out again seconds later. "Ah!"

"That's it," breathed Rick, increasing the pace. "Tell grandpa how it feels."

"I-It feels so good, Rick!" said Morty. He could feel the pleasure mounting inside of him with every passing second of intimate friction between them. "Oh, mm, ah, _Rick,_ I'm gonna cum!"

"Not until I fucking say so, you're not," growled Rick.

His thrusts grew shallower, and Morty whined as he realized that he'd made the mistake of announcing his impending orgasm like it was an inevitability instead of asking for permission.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean- Rick, I'm _so close!"_ pleaded Morty, throwing his head back against the table hard enough to crack it and leave a bruise on the back of his head. Jerry swore in the background. "I-I need-" Even in the throes of passion, he knew he had to choose his words carefully. "My Alpha- Only Alpha can-can make me feel this good! Please, I want- I need to cum around my Alpha's cock!"

Rick seemed to accept his apology, because it wasn't long until he was once again rutting into him at full force. Relieved, Morty was all too happy to give himself over to pleasure. In moments like this, it was easy to forget everything bad or upsetting about his life. He didn't have to think about how lonely he was at school, his parents fighting, or death-defying adventures. No, all he had to think about was Rick. Rick, Rick, _Rick!_ His grandfather. His friend. His _alpha._ It didn't matter that he didn't always understand or appreciate all of Rick's decisions, because at the end of the day, he was Rick's omega.

"Rick!" was all he could say as climax seized him, surging through his body like a tidal wave.

His hole throbbed and convulsed around Rick's shaft, squeezing a satisfying moan out of his stubbornly quiet grandfather as his seed was pumped into Morty's willing body. He liked knowing that he'd made Rick feel good. It was like an indirect acknowledgment of his own value. Given how rarely Rick deigned to bestow any kind of a compliment on him, it was nice to feel like he had something to offer, even if that something was just sex.

As Rick's knot expanded inside of him, simultaneously plugging him up and binding them together, Morty took a moment to breathe. This wouldn't be the end of it. It never was. He did his best to cooperate when Rick hoisted him up off of the coffee table, placing his arms over his grandfather's shoulders and keeping his legs wrapped tightly around his waist for additional support as Rick carried him to the stairs for rounds two and beyond.

"Finally," said Beth, putting her feet up on the cracked coffee table.

"Don't you think your father is too rough with him?" said Jerry, staring mournfully down at the damage. "And he's always taking him out of school!"

"So?" said Beth, unconcerned. "Morty's never going to be an alpha, Jerry. Worst case scenario, he can just bail on his life and set up shop in someone else's."

"Are you really going to accept that?" said Jerry. "That our son is gonna be an omega for life?"

"That's just how some people are," said Beth, pouring herself another glass of wine. "You should know."

"Okay, ouch," said Jerry, taking a seat beside her and crossing his arms over his chest.


	2. Tyranny

An omega lived to serve their alpha regardless of their own personal feelings. That was a truth that Morty had come to accept growing up.

"Shit," said Rick as they hurried down the street, eager to get away from the space mafia that they'd escaped from just moments ago, but unable to run for fear of drawing too much attention to themselves. In the hustle and bustle of an alien city, the best thing they could do was try to blend into the crowd. "We need to get off-planet."

"How?" asked Morty, gripping Rick's lab coat to keep from losing him as they squeezed their way through the masses. "They have the ship!"

"It's fine, Morty, we can get a new ship," said Rick, scanning the streets. "You ever play Grand Theft Auto?"

Morty's grip tightened. "You don't mean…"

He cried out in alarm as Rick yanked him in the direction of one of the vehicles parallel parked on the side of the road.

"But that's not our-"

Rick retrieved a mechanical, shape-shifting skeleton key from his pocket that he shoved into the lock to open up the passenger side door, then shoved Morty inside before he could finish that sentence.

"We don't have time to worry about that sort of stuff, Morty!" said Rick, slamming the door shut and hurrying to the driver's side. "We-"

"There they are!" shouted a voice Morty recognized as one of the goons chasing them. "Get them!"

A barrage of lasers began firing off in their direction. Rick turned the key in the ignition and yanked the steering wheel back so hard Morty feared it might break, sending them rocketing up into the sky.

"Morty, return fire!" ordered Rick as they raced further and further upwards. "I'll try to find some clouds to lose them in!"

Initially, Morty reached forwards, but the civilian ship had no gun mechanism to speak of. Instead, he whipped out his laser pistol and rolled down the window, flooding the ship with cold, low-oxygen air.

Aiming was almost impossible with the way that Rick was weaving them back and forth to avoid being hit, but Morty fired anyway, too terrified to worry about the lives of the people trying to kill them. Not one of them hit their mark, but the flight pattern of the fleet chasing after them had been disrupted.

"Good, now close the window before we both end up with hypoxia!" said Rick. Morty did as he was told. "We're going in!"

"Going- AAAAAGH!"

Morty screamed as Rick pulled back on the steering wheel once more, causing them to climb upwards at a ninety degree angle for a time before flipping entirely upside-down to face the direction they'd just come from. In space, the lack of gravity made it a perfectly legitimate maneuver, but within a planet's gravitational pull, it left Morty tumbling out of his seat and landing face-down on the inside of the vehicle's roof.

Rick, who'd buckled himself in for once (something that probably should have alerted Morty to the importance of doing so), pushed down on one of the trigger buttons on the wheel to spin them back to an upright position again without changing directions. Morty plummeted back into his seat, whereupon he quickly pulled down his harness to ensure that he stayed there this time.

They wove back and forth through the scattered fleet, narrowly avoiding fire and dodging out of the way to trick the gunners into firing on one another before zipping off towards a cluster of clouds and vanishing inside.

Flying through clouds was always weird. It was impossible to see anything through the windows but white, and the turbulence was a nightmare. The ship was practically vibrating.

"Did we lose them?" asked Morty.

"Morty, we've been flying through these clouds for thirty seconds," said Rick. "How am I supposed to know if we've lost them or not? Ask me again in twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes passed.

"Did we lose them?" asked Morty.

"The fact that you're asking me that question instead of screaming like a little bitch because we're still being chased means that the answer is probably yes, Morty."

He'd figured as much, but it was still nice to have a confirmation. Morty closed his eyes and reclined his seat, struggling to calm himself after his latest brush with death.

"Geez," he breathed as Rick ascended into the stratosphere. "Why do you even bring me on these adventures?"

"You may be pretty useless, but I can't drive and shoot at the same time," said Rick, taking a pull from his flask. "And-and before you suggest I clone myself, Ricks don't work well together. I need someone who'll actually listen to what I say without wasting time arguing about stupid shit, which, incidentally, also rules out both Summer and your mom."

Morty frowned.

"But then, wouldn't it make more sense to have me go beta? If I were stronger, wouldn't I be more helpful?" he asked without thinking, only to tense as he saw Rick's expression darken. "I-I-I mean, not that I- I'm not trying to- I'm sorry, Alpha, it was just a question."

Rick snickered and relaxed his grip on the wheel. Morty breathed a quiet sigh of relief as his grandfather grinned and reached over to ruffle his hair.

"See, that kind of attitude is exactly why you'll always be an omega," said Rick. "You're a pussy, Morty. When Beth was your age, she was always picking fights and testing my limits, but you? You don't have the guts to challenge an alpha." He glanced down at Morty's crotch. "I mean, look at you. You pissed your pants."

"Wait, what? I didn't-" said Morty, turning his attention downwards to the dark, damp stain that was beginning to form in his jeans. His eyes widened. When had his last cycle been? "Rick, what day is it on Earth?"

Rick leaned over and sniffed the air.

"Well, shit," said Rick, pinching his nose shut and breathing through his mouth in an effort to lessen the effects of the pheromones. "That's definitely pre-heat. Lucky it started now and not twenty minutes ago, I guess."

"What are we gonna do?" said Morty, panicked. He could already feel a preparatory itch coming on as instinct commanded him to find a suitable location to strip down and present himself to his alpha. "I can't go into heat in some random stranger's ship in the middle of space, Rick!"

"Relax," said Rick, pulling out his cellphone. "We're only a few jumps away from the Blizzwub system, and we've got the video evidence of that drug deal that their king asked us for. They-they might even give us a room in the palace. It'll be great, Morty; way better than having your heat back home on Earth."

"Wh-what about birth control?" said Morty. The rate of successful fertilization was incredibly high due to the combination of the knot and the hormones encouraging multiple rounds; barring a medical condition, unprotected sex during heat was practically a guarantee of pregnancy. "I left my pills at home!"

"I'm a genius, Morty. I can make you a pill. Keep your pants on," said Rick. "Seriously. Don't think I don't see you fiddling with the zipper."

"But Rick!" whined Morty, his voice coming out far needier than he'd hoped. "The belt!"

"Do you want to have your heat in this car? Because if the smell gets too strong, I'm not gonna be able to control myself," said Rick flatly. "Keep your hands on the dashboard."

* * *

 

"I expected no less from Rick Sanchez and his partner!" said the Blizzwubbian king, a chubby fellow with a long, elephant-like trunk. "This footage will be more than enough to get the council to take action against those terrible mafiosos!"

Morty squirmed where he stood as Rick shook hands with the king, soaking up praise like a dry sponge that had just been tossed into a puddle. It was nice to be spoken highly of, but his whole body was warm, and he could feel slick dripping down his inner thigh. Rick had lent him his lab coat to tie around his waist to hide the wet spot, but it wouldn't be long before it, too, was soaked through.

"No problem, King Kevkon," said Rick.

"Rick," said Morty, tugging at his grandfather's blue sleeve and glancing around the throne room. There were dozens of armed guards that he didn't want to have his heat in front of; it did weird shit to an omega's head. There were thousands of videos on the internet of omegas being coerced into doing or saying all sorts of embarrassing things in exchange for just a little stimulation.

"Yeah, you're right, Morty, I take it back; it-it-it WAS a pretty big problem," said Rick, placing a hand on his hip. "Those assholes had three times as many cronies as you said to expect. Normally, I'd demand three times the payment, but in this case, I'll settle for two and a half if you give us a room for the next few days."

"Gladly!" said King Kevkon. He waved his hand, and a handful of busty, scantily-clad elephant-women approached with small, golden chests full of jewels. "I would be honored to host you for as long as you need! In fact, I would like to invite you to a grand feast tonight held in your honor! The two of you will be free to partake in my sizable and diverse harem for as long as you please."

"Harem, huh?" said Rick, unibrow rising with intrigue.

"Rick!" said Morty more urgently. _He_ needed Rick that night!

"So this feast you're talking about… It's open bar?" said Rick.

"But of course!"

Morty scowled. Seriously?

"C-can't you do the feast, like, next week, or something?" said Morty. "I mean, tonight is a little short notice, don't you think?"

"Nonsense!" said the Blizzwubbian king. "We Blizzwubbian's pride ourself on our unparalleled party prowess!"

"Yeah, but-" began Morty, only for Rick to clamp a hand over his mouth.

"What my grandson is trying to say is that he's not feeling so great," said Rick. "He needs to rest."

"I understand. Steward!" said the king, clapping his hands. A slender, glasses-wearing Blizzwubbian hurried to their side. "Show Rick and his friend to their quarters!"

"Of course, your Wubbiness," said the the steward with a bow. "Right this way, sirs."

As they followed the Blizzwubbian steward down the castle hallways, Morty could hardly hold himself back. He pushed up against Rick's side and pressed his nose to his shirt, desperate for a hit of his alpha's intoxicating aroma.

"Rick," he murmured. "Don't go."

"And completely miss out on a feast held in our honor? Don't be rude, Morty," said Rick.

"Rude?" said Morty. "S-s-s-since when have you ever cared about being rude? You just want to go get drunk and fuck sexy aliens!"

"Oh, please," said Rick, crossing his arms over his chest. "Like there are people who _don't_ want to get drunk and fuck sexy aliens."

"Rick!" said Morty desperately. "I'm going into heat! I need you here with me!"

"Uh, sirs," said the steward, gesturing to the door. "Your-"

"God, you're so fucking needy!" said Rick. "You just started feeling it less than an hour ago! Plenty of omegas go into heat while their alphas are at work. You aren't gonna die just 'cause you've gotta wait a little bit!"

"Shouldn't you wait until after I leave to have this discussion?" suggested the steward meekly.

"So, what, you're just gonna leave me alone in some strange place?" said Morty incredulously. "Didn't you tell that other Rick that leaving an omega alone was as stupid as wandering home through a dark alley?"

"He was being a dick, Morty," said Rick. "I just wanted to piss him off. This is a castle guarded by thousands of elite soldiers. You'll be fine."

Morty froze.

"You risked losing control and beating the shit out of me just to _piss someone off?"_

"I knew you would submit before it came to that," said Rick, shrugging. "God, don't be such a pussy."

"What the _fuck,_ Rick?" said Morty, even as his impending heat had him shaking at the knees and yearning for his alpha's thick, delicious cock. "What the _actual fuck?_ You _tackled me to the floor!_ You slammed me against the coffee table so hard that I had bruises all over my back for _days!_ Y-y-you can't just-"

"I can't just what, Morty?" said Rick, towering over him like a lion over a rabbit. In that moment, as Rick gripped him by the shoulders and shoved him painfully up against the wall, Morty began to realize that he might have gone just a little too far. "The answer is _nothing,_ Morty! There's _nothing_ I can't do! I'm your alpha! I _control_ you! Now get your ass in your room!"

"Wait, you're not gonna-" began Morty as Rick practically ripped open the door and shoved him inside. The steward backed away.

"Do you think you can tell me what to do?" said Rick. _"I'm_ the one in charge! Now sit your dripping fuckhole down and wait for me to get back!"

"But the-"

SLAM!

With the door shut in his face, Morty collapsed to his knees.

"-belt."

Really? Morty slammed his fist against the floor in frustration. Really? Not only was he going to have to wait, but he was going to have to wait in the belt? It was one thing to attempt to enforce chastity and curb an omega's sexual appetite on a normal day, but in _heat?_

Morty practically ripped off his jeans and yellow shirt, untying the lab coat from around his waist just so he could press his face against the white fabric. For as pissed as he was at Rick for doing this to him, the craving was stronger than ever. The biological imperative to fuck and breed was slowly but surely overpowering him. His dripping sex strained valiantly against its unyielding metal prison, but it brought him nothing but pain.

At least the room was nice. Morty crawled into the massive bed and snuggled up against the soft pillows. He could only hope his bodily fluids didn't do too much damage to the soft, otherworldly fabric, because slick was oozing out of him from both ends. He could already smell his own pheromones building up in the surrounding air, announcing his fertility to any alpha who would have him.

"This fucking sucks," he groaned. He rubbed his palm against the metal belt as though it might somehow grant him some kind of relief, but there was none to be had. All he accomplished was coating his hand in his own goo.

How long had it been? Morty checked his phone. It had barely been a minute since Rick had left him like this. How would he ever survive? His lust continued to grow with every passing second, leaving him panting and bucking his hips up against the air.

"Rick," he groaned with a strange mixture of lust and fury. "Rick!"

He sat up straight and looked around the room. There had to be something he could use to get off. _Anything!_ He stumbled over to the ornate dressers and flung open the drawers, but they were all completely empty. On the other end of the room, a floor-to-ceiling mirror reflected his pathetic, dripping body back at him, completely exposed except for the infernal contraption locking his genitals out of reach.

"Fuck," whispered Morty, collapsing back down onto the bed. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck!"_

With his desperation rapidly mounting, he clawed first at the lock, then the belt itself. If he could just get _one finger_ underneath, then maybe, just _maybe…_

But no. The seal was padded for comfort, but not _that_ padded.

"Rick!" he cried, scratching at his own flesh around the waist. Frustrated tears spilled from his eyes. He needed it off. Not 'wanted.' _Needed._ "Please, Alpha!"

Morty had been through heats before, but always with a toy or an alpha on hand. This was torture. No, worse; this was _Hell._ How could Rick do this to him? What had he done to deserve this? Sure, he'd gotten a little bit persnickety, but that couldn't have been enough to warrant such a terrible punishment. He placed a pillow between his legs and humped it like a rabbit even though he knew it was futile, accomplishing little other than leaving it soaked with his own secretions. His entrance pulsated with lust as his empty womb cried out to be filled with fertile seed.

Alpha. Sex. _Breed._

Like a switch being flipped off in his brain, any thoughts Morty might have had about anything other than how to get a cock in his ass seemed to vanish. There were no alphas here. He needed an alpha to be bred. That meant he had to find an alpha. Morty rose from the bed like a horny zombie and shuffled to the door.

"Alpha," said Morty hollowly. He turned the knob, and the door swung open to reveal a hallway mostly devoid of life except for a single maid dusting off paintings. "Alpha?"

He approached her from behind and sniffed her shoulder, prompting her to cry out in alarm.

"What the- Oh! You're one of the king's guests! The one who wasn't feeling well, right?" said the maid, who most certainly did not smell like an alpha. "If you're feeling better, the feast is down the hall and to the left!"

Morty turned to follow her directions down the hallway without so much as a thank-you.

"Alpha…"

He followed the sound of music and laughter to an open archway. It looked like some sort of ballroom with tables full of snacks off to one side while people danced, made out, and had sex on the other. The king himself was sitting on some kind of cushion while a handful of naked women took turns bouncing up and down on his cock. With Rick nowhere in sight, Morty found himself drawn to the orgy like a moth to a flame.

"Oh!" said the king as Morty approached. "It's you! Rick's over at the bar somewhere. Good to see that you're feeling better. You want in on this?"

Morty had no interest in the harem. As far as he was concerned, the fact that they were submitting to their king made them fellow omegas. Were he simply horny, that would have sufficed, but Morty needed more than just release; he needed to be _bred._ For that, he needed an alpha.

He knelt down and pressed his lips to the king's elephant-like feet, much to the man's obvious surprise. A few gasps rang out around him, but he was too far gone to care about the guns currently being aimed at his head.

"Breed me?" said Morty, not coherent enough to formulate his plea more eloquently than that.

The king's trunk curled, and he gestured for the guards ready to blast Morty to bits with their lasers to stand down.

"Hm, well, I've never tried a human before…" murmured the king thoughtfully. "Why not? Girls, get off for a moment."

The three-breasted woman riding his cock shot an annoyed glare in Morty's direction before hopping off to pout in a corner. Morty eyed it hungrily, his eyes following it as it swayed back and forth like a hypnotist's pocket watch. It wasn't quite as thick as his grandfather's, but it was long, enough so that he wasn't even sure he would be able to take the whole thing in.

It was a risk he was willing to take. Morty wasted no time in crawling forward and engulfing the tip with his mouth.

"Woah!" said the king, clearly taken aback. "With your- That can't taste any good!"

It didn't, but Morty didn't care. This was an unfamiliar alpha, and the best way to ingratiate oneself to an alpha with an established harem was a demonstration of quality service to prove that he was worth the effort. He sucked and slurped the long, gray shaft, his head bobbing enthusiastically up and down as far as he could go without choking.

"Woah," said the king. _"Woah._ This is amazing! Do humans do this a lot?"

"Mmhmm," hummed Morty in response.

He hadn't been at it for very long, but his aching hole needed filling like a fish needed water. He pulled his mouth off of the king's erect cock with a wet 'pop,' then rose to his feet, swinging his leg over the king's lap to straddle him.

"What in the world is this metal contraption?" asked the king, poking Morty's chastity belt. "It looks painful."

 _"Mmhmm,"_ said Morty again, fervently grinding the smooth steel against the king's erection.

Penetration. He needed _penetration._ He placed his knees on either side of the king to lift himself enough to line up the tip with his wanton entrance.

"Woah, woah, WOAH! Stop!"

Morty turned his head just in time to see Rick racing towards him to yank him forcefully off the king's lap and throw him to the ground.

 _"No!"_ said Rick like he was scolding a dog. "Morty, what the fuck were you thinking?"

"Alphaaaaaa!" whined Morty. "Breed me!"

"What's wrong?" said the king, once again gesturing for the guards to lower their guns.

Rick sighed and pressed his palm to his forehead. "Look, sorry to get you excited for nothing, but this idiot- Let's just say he's part of _my_ harem. His heat just started, so, you know, not exactly in his right mind." He hoisted Morty up by his forearm. "Whether or not he's _ever_ in his right mind, or if he even _has_ one to begin with, well, I'll get back to you on that one."

"Alpha!" panted Morty, clinging to Rick's thigh and humping his leg while he reached for the key around his neck. "Alpha, _Alpha!"_

"Oh, yes, of course," said the king with an understanding nod. "Shall I have a guard posted to keep him in his room?"

"Thanks, but I've got it," said Rick, grabbing a nearby bottle of alien booze from a table nearby. "I hate to leave so early, but I've gotta take care of this before he claws himself to death trying to get the belt off."

"Why leave?" asked the king. "There's no reason you can't just take care of him here."

Rick seized Morty by the hair.

"Yeah, there is," said Rick. Even through the haze of his heat, Morty could sense the underlying threat in his words. A bubble of anxiety formed in his chest. Alpha was angry at him, and understandably so; he had strayed. Had the king fought to claim him for his own, Morty might have been spared the brunt of his grandfather's anger, but he'd been immediately surrendered back into Rick's custody, meaning it was on him to bear the consequences.

He yelped as Rick dragged him out of the room by the hair. Even when he tripped and fell, Rick continued pulling, dragging him along the floor until they were back at the room where he'd been left before.

Morty shivered as Rick closed the door and clicked the lock shut behind them.

"What the _fuck_ was that?"

Morty chewed his lip. Even when he was terrified, the urge to bend over the bed for his alpha was strong.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, palming Rick's crotch through the fabric in a fervent effort to placate him. "I couldn't find you."

"So you thought you'd just jump on the first dick you saw?" said Rick, lifting him up off of the ground and hurling him down onto the bed. "And with the _belt_ on? You fucking _idiot!_ Do you know what would have happened if I hadn't pulled you off in time? The forcefield liquifies anything that goes through it except me, Morty! That guy's cock would be a half-melted stump, and the only thing penetrating you then would be hundreds of bullets! Do you understand, you stupid moron? You almost _died!"_

Morty tilted his head to the side, too far gone too have comprehended any of that beyond 'dick,' 'fucking,' 'cock,' and 'penetrating.' He rolled over onto his hands and knees to present himself to his alpha.

"Breed me?" he moaned, giving his ass a little wiggle. "I-I wanna have Alpha's baby."

"Jesus Christ…" said Rick, but the combination of Morty's heat and sheer jealousy left him unable to keep away. "I should just leave the belt on for your whole heat. How's that sound?"

In that moment, Rick's threat was far more frightening a prospect than even death.

"No, please!" said Morty, rolling back over onto his back to expose the lock of the belt. "No more belt, Alpha! I'll be a good Omega! I-I-I'll only cum on Alpha's cock!" He let his arms fall to his sides. "And I'll have lots of babies for Alpha! As many as Alpha wants!"

Pissed as he was, Rick couldn't seem to stifle a snort.

"How about 'none?' " said Rick, pulling off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants.

"None?" said Morty, horrified. No! He needed to be _filled!_ "But-but-"

"Been there, done that," said Rick, removing the key from his neck and sticking it into the lock. "Trust me, Morty, the only worthwhile thing about parenting is _making_ the baby. It's all downhill from there."

"Please, Alpha!" said Morty, breathing a sigh of relief as the latch of his belt came undone and his cock was finally freed. "I need it! Let me have your children!"

Even as Rick pulled the chastity belt away, it remained connected to Morty's groin by a lengthy strand of gooey slick. Immediately, Morty's hands raced down to touch himself, but Rick was quick to grab his wrists.

"You think you're off the hook just 'cause you're delirious?" said Rick. "Get off the bed and suck my dick like you sucked his, and _maybe_ I'll consider letting you cum."

Morty all but flew off the bed, falling to his knees and gazing up at his Alpha with the sort of reverence one might show a god. He expected his wrists to be released, but Rick held onto them, presumably to make sure he didn't try to touch himself while he worked. That was fine; Morty was just relieved to finally have his cock free.

He opened his mouth wide and sucked Rick's cock down his throat like he was attempting to swallow it whole. It was a far more familiar taste than the king's; he'd sucked Rick off a couple of times in the past to get back into his good graces after a slip-up, and he knew just how his grandfather liked it. Morty swallowed around Rick's shaft, then pulled his mouth off of its length to start licking and sucking his balls. Age had rendered them wrinkled and droopy, but they were still impressive, as one would expect the sack of someone who'd been an alpha for the vast majority of their seventy-plus lifespan to be.

"That's it, Morty," purred Rick. "Lick 'em good."

Morty moaned around his grandfather's flesh, lovingly caressing him with his tongue before returning to the neglected shaft. He had to make his alpha feel good. If Alpha felt good, _he_ would get to feel good.

"That's enough," said Rick, glancing around the room while Morty obediently removed his mouth. His eyes locked onto the floor-to-ceiling mirror on one of the walls, and he released Morty's wrists. "Get on your hands and knees in front of the mirror."

Morty raced to the mirror with such enthusiasm that he didn't even bother standing up, opting to instead crawl to his destination on all fours. He gasped with heated anticipation as Rick placed his foot between his shoulder blades and pushed his face and chest to the ground, then eagerly wiggled his raised bottom in what he could only hope was an enticing manner.

"Give it to me," pleaded Morty. As Rick reached down to cup his ass, Morty eagerly pushed back against it, the faintest contact setting fire to his skin. "Oh fuck, please, I need Alpha's knot! I need it so, so bad!"

Tears of frustration leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he presented himself, the very picture of subservience. He needed it inside of him. Stretching him. Filling him. Knotting him. _Breeding_ him. He reached a hand back, rubbed it against his stomach, and imagined how big and round it would be with Rick's baby inside. Could his grandfather not picture it the way he did? After all, if he could, surely he wouldn't hesitate to fill Morty with hot, fertile seed.

Morty arched his back excitedly as Rick settled into place behind him. The sound of his pants being unzipped was like music to his ears.

"You want my knot?" said Rick, and Morty nodded, too out of it to recognize the annoyance in his grandfather's voice. "Because to me it looked like you were willing to take the first cock you could stuff up your dripping fuckhole."

"I wanted _you,"_ said Morty desperately. "I wanted Alpha so bad, but Alpha wasn't there!"

His whole body shuddered with anticipation as he felt the tip of Rick's erect cock prodding his wanton entrance. The sheer quantity of slick was so great that he knew it would slide right in with even the slightest pressure, but none was being applied.

"Did you think I was gonna forgive you that easily?" asked Rick, and Morty could see him licking his lips in the mirror. "Press your legs together."

From a doggy-style position, closing his legs didn't inhibit access, so Morty didn't hesitate to comply. As Rick's cock slid down from his hole to his thighs, however, he was beginning to see where this was going.

"Rick, please!" said Morty, but there was no changing his grandfather's mind.

Morty blushed heavily as Rick's cock slipped between his dripping thighs; it felt thick and hot between his legs, but it brought him no satisfaction or relief from such a position. He tried to lower his groin a little so at least their cocks would rub together, but Rick held onto his waist to keep him from moving. On any other day, he might have been able to wriggle free, but the pheromone intoxication left him too weak to fight back.

He pouted as Rick began to thrust his hips. All Morty could do was gaze hopelessly into the mirror. Every second spent looking at his own teary-eyed face had him growing redder with embarrassment at just how pathetic he looked. He tried to direct his attention upwards at Rick's reflection, but the sight of his alpha pushing his face up against the mirror with every thrust only made it worse. Morty's only comfort was the layer of fog spreading across the glass with every breath he took.

What had he done to deserve this? Even in a state of delirium, the question kept popping into his head. The horny, heat-addled part of his mind kept reminding him of his grievous betrayal. It was one thing for a rival alpha to force themselves on another's omega; that was just a failure by the alpha to protect what was theirs. It was quite another thing for an omega to willingly crawl into a stranger's lap.

But wait, how was that fair? Why was it that if Rick went into a rut, anything he did was excused by simple biology, but when Morty went into a heat, he was expected to control himself and obey no matter how difficult it was? How was it his fault that Rick had left him like that?

It _wasn't_ fair, he realized. It had _never_ been fair. Omegas were supposed to obey their alphas in exchange for being protected and cared for, but when had Rick ever held up his end of that unspoken societal bargain? Morty had done his best to behave, and what had he gotten for it? Impossible tasks that just ended with him being punished anyway! He was fucked in every sense of the word, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Are you crying?" said Rick in response to the series of broken sobs coming from Morty's mouth. "Seriously?"

"I-I can't take it anymore," said Morty. Tears flowed out of his eyes, and mucous dripped from his nose to the floor. "I-I'll do anything, just put it in!"

"See, that's just it, Morty," said Rick, and Morty cried out as he threaded a hand through his hair. "I can already make you do anything." Even through the fog, Morty could tell that he was smirking. "Bark for me."

He wanted to resist, he really did, but he just couldn't take it anymore. Trembling with humiliation, Morty did as he was bid and barked like a dog. "Arf! Arf!"

"That's it," said Rick, finally sliding out from between Morty's thighs and positioning himself back at his desperate entrance. "Look, I'll tell you what; if you can do one thing for me, I'll throw out that chastity belt for good. How's that sound?"

Morty froze, allowing a hopeful smile to cross his face. Had Rick taken pity on him? "Really?"

"Yep," said Rick, loosening his grip on Morty's hips and making sure the tip of his length was perfectly aligned with Morty's wet heat. Morty whined and pushed back as much as he was able. "And all you have to do is resist penetrating yourself after I let go."

With those words, Morty's face fell once more. By the time his brain finally processed the Herculean nature of this task, Rick had already released his hips, meaning there was nothing stopping him from pushing himself back and letting that big, thick perfect cock slide into his body like a key into a lock.

No. He couldn't think like that! He hated that terrible belt. It was a symbol of Rick's control over him, denying him the capacity for not just self-gratification, but bodily autonomy. It marked him as property, sealing away his genitals and keeping them fresh for his owner like a cork in a bottle of wine or a twist tie on a bag of bread. Morty gritted his teeth, desperate to quell his lust by focusing instead on his self-righteous fury.

But Alpha was so hot and hard and _right there,_ with neither a condom nor birth control to sabotage his fertilization. Maybe, if he was really, really lucky, Alpha would put a whole litter inside him! All he had to do was push back!

For a brief moment that felt like an eternity, Morty managed to fend off his instincts, but there was no keeping them at bay. They hit like a tsunami against his crumbling determination, breaking it down until all that remained was rubble in the water. The mixture of shame and relief from jerking back and skewering himself on Rick's cock had him breaking down in tears.

Morty could hear Rick disparaging him, but he was too busy hating himself for his weakness to pay much attention to his words beyond the fact that they were less than complimentary. There was no use fighting it. This was who he was; breeding stock. A living cum receptacle.

He stared into his own hollow expression in the mirror. Eyes were like the windows to a person's soul, and behind Morty's was a lifeless corpse hanged by the neck and swinging from the rafters. The physical pleasure didn't make him feel any less dead inside as he surrendered to his alpha. What would ordinarily be an enjoyable period of pleasure and bonding felt more like degradation.

Humiliated as he was, he couldn't stop himself from moaning and pleading for more.

"H-harder!" he cried out. "Please, _harder!"_

As he pressed his forehead against the mirror, beads of sweat dripped down the glass to the floor below. He needed to cum. Morty could feel an orgasm steadily building in his abdomen, so tantalizingly close, and yet so stubbornly far away. He knew Rick well enough to recognize that it was completely intentional. His grandfather knew all of his sweet spots. If he felt so inclined, he could bring Morty to climax in only a few short minutes. This was a power play, as though Morty needed further reminding of who he belonged to.

"Mm, that's my good little bitch," said Rick. He reached around to pinch Morty's nipples and twist them both painfully in opposite directions, causing Morty to scream and clamp down. "You want me to cum inside you?"

'More than anything in the world,' Morty wanted to say, but he couldn't form the words. All he could do was slobber all over the mirror and clench as hard as he could, eager to milk the seed from his alpha's cock.

"Fuck yeah," moaned Rick, sounding pleased. Morty tensed as he changed the angle of his thrusts to better assault Morty's prostate. "I'm gonna fill you up like a cream pie, you dirty little cum slut."

Morty bit down on his lip to stifle himself as he came, the nerves of his sensitive hole igniting like kerosene from the heavenly friction of his alpha's length. He slammed his hips backwards to fully engulf Rick's knot as it began to swell, locking it into place inside of him while ribbons of hot cum filled him up and raced to his womb. He kept his ass raised in the hope that gravity would help things along. If that wasn't enough to fertilize him, that was fine; his heat would last the rest of the week. As soon as the knot subsided, they could have another go, again and again and _again._

He panted like a dog as Rick's seed flowed into his needy hole. Morty took the seed gladly, reveling in the satisfaction of finally being bred while at the same time despising himself for feeling that way. For a long time, the two of them simply gasped for breath together, their bodies still united as one. By the time Rick's knot began to wane, Morty was already prepared for another round.

"More," he said, turning around to lap at Rick's cock in the hopes of bringing it back to life. "Alpha, more!"

"One sec," said Rick, fishing through the pockets of his lab coat to retrieve a bottle of pills. Morty wondered if it was something to help him get hard again. It wouldn't have been the first time his grandfather had used chemical means to continue fucking. He didn't open them, however. Instead, he handed them to Morty. "Here, take one."

Morty opened the bottle and stared down at its contents, then returned his gaze to Rick. "What for?"

"To keep you from getting pregnant," said Rick.

"What?" said Morty, devastated. "But why?"

"Morty, the only reason you wanna get pregnant is 'cause you're in heat. The second you snap out of it, you're gonna remember what a stupid idea it would be for you to have a baby."

"I can take care of it!" insisted Morty like a child trying to convince a parent to let them get a pet. "I-I can quit school!"

"Morty…"

"I'll do all the work!" said Morty, shielding his belly protectively. "Alpha won't have to worry about a thing!"

"Morty!"

"Please, Alpha!" said Morty. He clutched Rick's lab coat. "Let me have your baby!"

_SLAP!_

Morty clutched his cheek and whimpered in response to the sudden smack across his face.

"Take the pill," ordered Rick. "You'll thank me later."

He had no choice. If he didn't take the pill, Rick would simply force it down his throat. With a trembling lip, Morty popped one into his mouth.

"Now swallow."

Morty hesitated. Surely if Rick saw his bulging tummy, he would change his mind about wanting a baby, right? Once he could feel it kicking around in his womb, he would realize just how much he wanted to take the next step as true mates! To Morty's hormone-addled mind, the logic seemed to check out.

Hiding the pill under his tongue would be too obvious, so he instead tucked it away behind his upper lip alongside his frenulum. After swallowing nothing, he opened his mouth to demonstrate that it was gone.

"Lift your tongue."

Morty raised his tongue to show that nothing was underneath, doing his best to look upset despite the excited flutter in his chest.

"Good," said Rick, oblivious to the deception. His habit of underestimating Morty's intelligence, while annoying, could prove quite a boon in certain situations. "Now bend back over, baby. I'm not done with you."

He eagerly turned around to present himself for round two.


	3. Rebellion

Morty had fucked up.

After several days of almost non-stop fucking, Morty's heat had finally begun to peter out. With his flask empty and his body beginning to grow uncomfortably sober, Rick had taken them home and deposited Morty back into his own bedroom while he went out to booze back up. It was at this point, with his hormones finally normalizing, that Morty was finally able to appreciate just how right Rick had been when he'd said that it was a stupid idea.

What had he been _thinking?_ He couldn't have a baby! Morty clutched his stomach. He'd spat out the pill at the earliest opportunity back at the alien castle, meaning there would be no fishing it back out of the trash. _Fuck!_ Okay, well, maybe it hadn't taken. There was still a chance that he wasn't pregnant, right?

Morty reached his fingers down to his ass, which was still dripping with the latest thick load of cum that Rick had deposited inside of him. Who was he kidding? He'd been pumped full of enough of his grandpa's baby batter to have been impregnated a hundred times over. The odds that not a single sperm cell had reached its destination were positively miniscule.

"Shit…" he breathed.

He couldn't panic. That wouldn't do him any good. No, what he needed to do was weigh his options. He'd fucked up by refusing to take the birth control pill, and now it was time for damage control.

Option one was telling the truth about what he had done to Rick, who could get him another pill. That would be the _responsible_ thing to do, but Morty refused to consider it. If Rick found out that he had disobeyed him about something so important, he would be lucky not to be beaten and subjugated within an inch of his life. Option two was simply waiting it out and praying that somehow, some way, he hadn't actually gotten pregnant, but the odds of that were looking to be only slightly higher than the odds of winning the lottery.

And then, of course, there was option three; figure out how to abort it in secret.

Morty took a deep breath, then hammered his gut with his fist as hard as he could.

"NNF!"

Had that done it? It was impossible to know. Morty collapsed back into his bed and stared up into the ceiling. If he could see a doctor about it, that would have made things easier, but all of an omega's medical records were available to their alpha. If they confirmed that he was pregnant, they would call Rick. A legal abortion would be equally impossible without his alpha's consent.

Morty stood up and peered into his closet. There were always coat hangers… How was that supposed to work, again? He'd always heard about their use in back-alley abortions, but he wasn't entirely sure of the process. In any case, he was pretty sure it would necessitate somebody's assistance, and Morty didn't have any close friends that he could trust; Rick had always made sure of that.

His hands clenched into fists. Rick had done a _lot_ of things to fuck him over both figuratively and literally, hadn't he? The whole 'leave the chastity belt on while he was in heat' debacle was only the latest in a seemingly never-ending series of abuses of power. Morty ground his teeth together, trying to quell his anger. Why did he have to obey such an asshole? It wasn't fair! What had Rick done to deserve that power aside from being stronger? Why did might make right?

But what was Morty supposed to do about it?

_Vrrm vrrm!_

The vibrations of his cellphone reverberated through his hip to indicate that a text had been sent. Morty pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen. It was from Brad, a beta at his school who'd been courting Jessica, an omega, with the intent of becoming her alpha after they graduated. Despite everything, Morty's first reaction was to bristle with jealousy. Potential alphas never courted _him;_ the few who had attempted to lay a claim by pinning him and humping him in the hallway had quickly been set straight by Rick, who took one whiff of their scents on Morty's body and hunted them down to kick their asses. At one point, Morty had been grateful for this, especially in the case of betas like Frank Palicky (who'd backed him up against a wall with a knife before being unceremoniously frozen to death by Rick), but he was beginning to wonder how Rick ever expected him to find an actual mate after graduation.

 _Did_ Rick expect Morty to find another mate? The more Morty thought about it, the more he began to wonder if his over-controlling grandfather wasn't just trying to keep him for himself. It wasn't completely unheard of for a related alpha to try to maintain control of an omega even after they matured, but it was pretty rare.

He opened up the text. It looked like it had been mass-sent, hence why Morty had gotten one at all.

_'rents on vacay, party at my place 2nite at 9!'_

Morty had never actually gone to a party before, at least not one that wasn't hosted by Rick. He was pretty sure he hadn't been invited intentionally, but a part of him wanted to go if only to be able to experience something interesting without his grandfather. He would have to ask Rick for his permission to-

 _...Did_ he? Morty checked the time. Nine o'clock, huh? That was still several hours away. The edges of Morty's lips twitched upwards into a devious smile as a plan hatched inside his head.

"Rick?" called Morty, hurrying down the stairs to find his grandfather idling in front of the television watching some alien nature documentary with a half-empty glass of wine in hand.

"If you're still feeling the heat, it's gonna have to wait," said Rick, taking a sip, but never setting the glass down. All that time spent fucking Morty and rationing alcohol had left him craving it even more than usual. Perfect. "Go see if your mom can- if she isn't too busy to take care of it for you. I'll give her the key to your belt."

"I'm fine," said Morty, sitting down next to Rick and snuggling up beside him. He smiled as Rick wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I just wanted to come sit with you, is all."

"Sure, whatever," said Rick, but from the way his hand was rubbing up and down Morty's arm, he wasn't quite as apathetic about Morty's presence as he was making out. "Jesus, I forgot how cuddly you always get after a heat. Summer just goes right back to normal, and Jerry always tries to avoid me for the next few days."

"Mmmhmm," said Morty, nuzzling his grandfather and watching the wine glass out of the corner of his eye. The second that Rick tipped the last of it down his throat, Morty reached out his hand. "Want me to get you another drink?"

"Is that supposed to be a question?" said Rick, handing over the empty glass.

Morty pressed a kiss to Rick's cheek before hurrying over to the kitchen, carefully hiding his frustration and rage behind several layers of submissive affection. He filled the glass with wine, then returned to Rick's side to give him the glass and plant another smooch on his lips.

"Good boy," said Rick, patting Morty on the ass as he took the glass and downed it. "Mm, Beth knows how to pick the good stuff."

"I'll get you another," said Morty, taking back the empty glass. He didn't worry about Rick refusing; his grandfather never turned down a drink.

Rick smirked. "What's got you in such a generous mood, all of a sudden?"

Keep calm, Morty told himself. He'd done a good job of keeping his tone of voice upbeat and playful; there was no way for Rick to have picked up on the plan. He briefly set the glass on the coffee table to wrap his arms around Rick's neck and settle down in his lap.

"I-I want to make it up to you," Morty murmured like he was ashamed. He nuzzled Rick's chest. "You know, for-for trying to have sex with someone else."

Rick snorted.

"Yeah, it's gonna take a lot more than a few drinks to make up for _that_ little slip-up," said Rick, only to jerk his head in the direction of the empty glass. "But it's a start. Go on, get me another one."

Morty got him another glass, then another. On and on it went. Counter-intuitively, the drunker Rick became, the faster he drank, until Morty was forced to bring entire bottles into the living room to keep his grandfather topped off.

"The-the-the-" stammered Rick, clearly struggling to sit up straight as he reached for the coffee table.

"The remote?" said Morty, passing him the controller.

"That's it," said Rick, petting Morty's hair. "Good-good boy, Morty. You-you-you-you're a good boy."

While Rick struggled to hit the right buttons on the remote, Morty checked his phone for the time. The party was in a little less than an hour.

"Morty," said Rick. "Fuck, it's- I'm not-"

"You want to turn it off?" said Morty. He pressed the big button in the corner to turn the television off on Rick's behalf. His grandfather usually maintained quite a bit of coordination while drunk. If he was struggling with basic motor skills, it meant that he was well and truly smashed; he wasn't going to remember anything about the night beyond Morty bringing him wine.

"You're a good boy, Morty," said Rick again as Morty helped him lay down on the sofa, then covered him with a blanket. "My-my-my good boy. My Morty."

"Yeah, I'm pretty fucking good," said Morty, a hint of venom slipping into his voice as he tucked Rick in. If he wanted to get to bed, he could stumble up the stairs on his own. "It'd be nice if you could, you know, acknowledge that sober."

"My Morty," murmured Rick, stroking Morty's arm. "Not- Won't- Can't leave. _Mine."_

Morty pulled his arm away.

"I'm leaving right now," said Morty. "Someday I might even leave forever. Then what will you do?"

Rick shook his head as much as he was able to with his cheek planted firmly on the armrest. "No. Not-not gonna leave. 'm not- won't let you."

Morty dug his nails into the sofa. "You won't let me, huh?"

Rick shook his head.

"Did you ever think about maybe _asking_ me, instead of forcing me all the time?" he growled. "Did you ever wonder what _I_ wanted?"

His only response was a loud snore indicating that his grandfather had fallen asleep. For a brief moment, Morty considered just how helpless Rick was in this state. It would be so easy to wrap his hands around his throat and _squeeze._ Rick would wake up, of course, and probably fight back, but, drunk as he was, even someone like Morty might stand a chance if he played his cards right. He could snatch the key, undo the accursed chastity belt, and forcibly subjugate his own alpha. The thought was strangely thrilling; how would it feel to actually be the one to pin somebody down and fuck them? To assert dominance instead of being dominated?

It wouldn't last. A single fuck wouldn't be enough to generate the hormones needed to fully reverse their positions. It would take several rounds and extensive aggression for Morty's dominance index to climb higher than Rick's. Once his grandfather sobered up, he would return what he was given tenfold, and Morty would be lucky if he didn't end up completely purple with bruises. The only way he stood a chance was if he could somehow restrain Rick with a rope or something, and even then, his mother would naturally take his grandfather's side out of fear that he would leave.

Morty took a few deep breaths to steady himself. It was no use fighting back, but that didn't mean he couldn't be sneaky. With Rick out for the count, it would be easy to go to the party. His family almost never looked for him, and would almost certainly assume that he was just in his room on his laptop. Nobody would ever think to suspect that meek little Morty was sneaking out purely to spite his alpha.

With a newfound resolve, Morty went out the door.

 

* * *

 

Morty hadn't been sure what to expect when he showed up to Brad's door. A part of him was sure he would be turned away. On his own, without his brilliant grandfather, he was a pretty unremarkable person. Socially, he demonstrated most of the traditionally desirable qualities of an omega, but physically, he wasn't particularly attractive, and he wasn't a skilled enough conversationalist to make up for his average appearance. As far as mating prospects went, Morty had grown to accept that he would probably end up a distant side piece in some unremarkable alpha's harem; the sort of omega who was kept on birth control, only occasionally subjugated to keep them in line, and more or less just kept around to do household chores that the more desirable omegas didn't want to do.

It was for this reason that when the door swung open, Morty braced himself for the worst, so he was quite surprised to be welcomed inside by a tipsy-looking Brad with a bright red cup in his hand.

"Morty, right?" said Brad, his words slightly slurred. As far as the betas at Morty's school went, Brad was an impressive specimen; as a football player, he was well built, and he had the added bonus of being incredibly easy on the eyes. It was no small wonder that so many omegas wanted in on his harem, even with Jessica being his current centerpiece. He was an obvious alpha in the making, and Morty couldn't help but feel unworthy to even be at one of his parties. "Come on in."

Morty had spent his whole life dealing with the alcoholism of family members, so the combination of the smell of booze and the behavior of those inside made it clear that someone had brought in a lot of liquor. As he stepped inside, he couldn't help but find it a little surreal to see so many people he knew from school stumbling around from blatant overindulgence.

It was nothing like one of Rick's parties. His grandfather had all the reckless abandon of a teenager, but he'd tempered the art of hosting to an art form that a handful of high schoolers throwing something together while their parents were away couldn't hope to match. The people humping and feeling each other up on the furniture were doing so without any kind of plastic covers to keep the fluids from staining the fabric. The music being blasted through the speakers from somebody's iPhone was simultaneously too loud in the immediate vicinity and too quiet as one got further away, a problem Rick would surely have solved by playing music at a lower volume over a series of speakers that were more spread out. The snack table consisted of a nearly-depleted bag of crushed chips and an empty Pringles container, and the only immediately available liquid was alcohol, which, if Rick's lectures about proper hydration between drinks were any indication, was a surefire way to give everyone a nasty hangover.

Nonetheless, it was exciting to be a part of something so far outside of what he was used to. Morty had been on countless adventures, but he'd never actually gone off and done something like this on his own. He couldn't help but smile from the high of independence, completely free of anybody else's control. Was this how it felt to be an alpha?

"Is that Morty?" said a familiar voice, her voice loud so as to overcome the music.

Morty turned around and froze upon realizing that he was being addressed by Jessica, of all people. As far as omegas went, she was the prettiest that he'd ever seen, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn't just a little bit jealous. Still, he couldn't help but admire her charm. Rick had once told him that the vast majority of Mortys in other dimensions were deeply in love with her, and he could certainly see why, even if he didn't share their lust. He had little doubt that she would end up a prized specimen in some well-off alpha's collection and spend the rest of her life being doted on hand and foot.

"J-Jessica," he stammered, backing away. "I, uh…"

"I'm glad you made it," she continued. "I didn't think your alpha let you come to things like this."

Morty cleared his throat. "He, uh, he kinda-sorta didn't?"

"Wait, so you snuck out?" said Jessica, her words attracting the attention of all those close enough to hear her over the music. Morty swallowed, anticipating harsh judgment for his transgressions, but the looks on their faces weren't disgust; rather, they seemed almost impressed.

"You're not upset?" he asked. Surely such defiance made him a bad omega.

"Are you kidding?" said Jessica, snorting. "More than half the people here had to sneak out to come to this party, including me. I just didn't think _you_ would ever do it. I mean, I can see why you'd be worried. Your alpha always seemed a little overbearing. No offense," she added quickly.

Morty hesitated. Had she just trash-talked an alpha? Could she do that? Morty had never really spoken with other omegas in such an informal setting before, and it was throwing him for a loop. Nobody else seemed particularly concerned about her words. Was this considered acceptable among his peers? Best to test the waters.

"Yeah, he, uh, he's kind of a pain sometimes," said Morty in what had to be the understatement of the century. Most related alphas began to start relinquishing control of omegas around Morty's age with the understanding that it was about time for them to start looking for a proper, more permanent mate, though some of the more old-fashioned ones had more difficulty letting go. Morty couldn't really describe Rick as simply overprotective, though; after all, Rick had put him in danger enough times that it was difficult to imagine he was simply worried about Morty's well-being. It was almost like he saw Morty as his forever-mate...

Still a little worried that at any moment now, someone was going to pop up with a camera and inform him that they were about to send footage of his misbehavior to Rick, Morty decided to wait and see how Jessica responded to his comment before saying any more.

"Yeah, alphas can be pretty awful," continued Jessica like nothing was out of the ordinary. "I mean, just yesterday, mine tried to tell me that I'm using too much makeup for a person my age. I think she's just jealous because she's getting older, though."

Morty listened with fascination as Jessica continued to ramble on about all of the things her alpha did that annoyed her. He hardly paid attention to most of it, but it was a strangely comforting sensation to think that he might not be the only one unsatisfied with his position. It made his distress feel validated.

"Yeah," said Morty, feeling a little more confident now. "Rick's always telling me where to go and what to do. And he-he keeps pulling me out of school for stupid reasons, like that time he wanted some stupid limited edition snack that's only available once every five thousand years. It-it-it didn't even taste good. He just wanted it 'cause it was rare. We waited in line for three weeks!"

"Woah, that's crazy!" Jessica laughed. "You should totally do something to get back at him."

"Oh yeah?" said Morty. "Like what?"

"Like fucking another alpha," said Jessica, and Morty immediately went pale.

"I, uh, I kind of already tried that when I was in heat," said Morty. "He was really upset. I don't really think I can-"

"Your alpha got mad at you for something you did in heat?" said Jessica, raising an eyebrow. "If an alpha doesn't want their omegas sleeping around, it's their job to fend off the competition. If they can't handle that, it's on them."

"Yeah! Exactly!" said Morty. The anger and frustration of the previous day was beginning to bubble back up to the surface, compelling him towards reckless and impulsive decisions. "But, I mean, I still can't- I'm wearing a chastity belt."

Jessica smiled deviously. "So was I. You should talk to Lockpick Pete. He'll pick the lock on any chastity belt in exchange for a blowjob."

"Pick the-" began Morty, horrified. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Yeah. So is underage drinking," said Jessica, holding up her red cup.

"But-but-but-" he stammered. "If we get caught…"

Neutering omegas to render them physically incapable of ever becoming alphas by taking away the parts necessary to generate the required hormones had been deemed illegal in the vast majority of cases years ago, but there were still a handful of offenses for which one could be punished with it. Among these was the crime of 'circumvention of the system.' For the most part, alphas were expected to keep their omegas in line on their own, but there were a handful of regulations involving the right of an omega to challenge their alpha's dominance:

One, an omega could not call upon another alpha for assistance. All internal power struggles had to be settled by the betas and omegas of the household in question. If another alpha wanted to join the household, they were required to challenge the alpha to a formal, one-on-one fistfight in order to determine their standing, whereas an internal power struggle between an alpha and their underlings permitted coordinated surprise attacks.

Two, attacks could not be carried out in designated 'safe zones' such as sleeping quarters or hospitals. If an alpha anticipated an attack and attempted to hole up in such a location to protect their status, there were legal channels to file a formal complaint; alphas found guilty of abusing the system could also find themselves castrated as punishment.

Three, chastity belts were not to be picked or intentionally damaged. This was one of the more recent rules introduced after an alpha managed to successfully argue in court that she couldn't possibly be expected to discipline her harem while she was out at work in the same way that wealthy alphas without nine to five jobs could. Devices like the one Morty was wearing had been introduced in order to provide a way to maintain sexual control in modern society. In order to ensure fairness under right to challenge laws, alphas who chose to make use of them had to keep the key on a magnetically closed chain around their necks at all times that could theoretically be ripped off in a fight. Any alpha or omega caught trying to remove such a device without a key could be subject to punishment at the discretion of the key-holder.

"That's only if you get caught," said Jessica. "Trust me, Pete knows what he's doing. He's picked a ton of belts without breaking them, and no one's ever been caught. You get to take it off while you're here, and then you clip it back on before you leave. Nobody ever has to know."

It was a bad idea. If something went wrong, or Rick had built some kind of alarm system into the belt, his balls could end up on the chopping block. Even that might not have been so terrifying on its own, given that he was already all but guaranteed to be an omega for life, but as a punitive procedure, no anesthesia was provided; the omegas subjected to it were strapped down and fully aware of every last snip of the surgical scissors. Morty swallowed and squeezed his thighs together. He'd seen pictures of omegas with missing testicles on the internet before, and it was terrifying.

_"Bark for me."_

Rick's words from when he was in heat echoed through his head.

"Which one is Pete?"

Jessica gestured to a sleazy-looking beta in the corner.

"See you around," she said as Morty turned around to approach him.

"Yeah," said Morty. "See you."

As he approached, it became apparent that the person known as 'Pete' was in the middle of jacking himself off. He seemed to have a tissue in one hand to prevent it from getting all over his host's sofa, but Morty still couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't worried about making a mess of the place.

"Are you Pete?" he asked.

"Depends on who's asking," said Pete like he was some kind of a big-shot criminal. To be fair, the crime he was engaging in _did_ have some pretty severe potential consequences, but Morty refused to appreciate a stock line.

"I heard you pick chastity belt locks," said Morty, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his underwear to reveal the metal device beneath.

"Mmhmm," said Pete, gesturing to his groin. "For a price."

It was a pretty good deal, all things considered. Most people would have charged top dollar for such a risk. Morty didn't hesitate to kneel down. There was always the possibility of contracting some kind of an STD, but Rick had enough sex with strangers that, if Morty passed it to him, he would probably assume that he'd contracted it first and passed it to Morty. From there, it was just a matter of picking up some medication. Sexually contracted diseases were so commonplace in their dimension that the vast majority had been cured already, and whatever there wasn't a treatment for, Rick could fix on his own.

It was strange to take a stranger's dick into his mouth. Morty hadn't realized just how well he knew the taste of Rick's cock until a new one was introduced. It was smaller than he was used to, and his testicles hadn't yet gone saggy with age. Morty had no problem sucking it down his throat until his nose was buried in unkempt pubic hair. From the way he could hear Pete moaning over the music, it was clear he wasn't doing half bad.

"Holy _fuck!"_

Something warm hit the back of his throat, and Morty's eyes snapped open in surprise upon realizing that a knot was swelling up in his mouth. He quickly pulled his head off before he ended up with his face stuck on a dick for the next fifteen minutes; he'd already gone through that one time too many with Rick.

'That was fast,' Morty almost wanted to say, but the last thing he wanted to do was be rude to somebody willing to get his belt off. Instead, he lapped up the sperm still flowing out of the tip.

"That was _incredible!"_ said Pete, looking completely spent. Morty frowned. Rick never would have finished so quickly, nor would he have been done after just one round. It seemed that the stamina of a young beta simply couldn't compare to that of an older alpha. "How'd you get so good?"

Morty couldn't help but blush. Stamina or no stamina, Rick almost never took the time to compliment his skills. "I, uh, I've had a lot of practice."

"No kidding!" said Pete. Morty's blush deepened as it became clear just how much attention they were attracting. "Hey, Brad! You've gotta get in on this, man!"

Brad, who was currently in the middle of feeling up the horny Jessica sitting on his lap, turned to stare at Morty with a mixture of interest and disbelief. Morty ducked his head; he wasn't used to this kind of attention, especially not from an attractive, popular beta. He wasn't smart or sexy enough to be worth their time, and the idea of Pete building up actual expectations that he would inevitably fail to meet was terrifying. After the belt was off, Morty had hoped to maybe get a pity-fuck from some low-index beta who was only managing to stay out of the 'omega' category for the time being through a combination of frequent masturbation and weak-willed parenting. Someone like Brad hadn't even been on his radar.

"Really?" said Brad. Jessica, too, looked intrigued. "Hey, Morty, get over here."

"Woah, uh, I just- I only wanted to get my belt off," said Morty, hopeful that his terrified demeanor would effectively communicate that he would only disappoint them, that he was sorry in advance for wasting their time, and that he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and flee the prying eyes of everyone around them.

"Oh, right, one sec," said Pete, yanking Morty's pants down and shoving him down on the sofa. Morty 'eeped' reflexively as he stuck a pair of metal rods into the lock.

Minutes passed as Pete fiddled with the device, and Morty began to wonder if it was for the best. At least this way, he wouldn't have to feel the sting of rejection when nobody wanted to fuck him. He really should have seen this coming. Of course it wouldn't work. This was a device of Rick's creation. Some random idiot could never hope to-

_Click!_

Morty's jaw dropped as the device sprang open. Had Rick really made it that easy? No alarm had been set off, no lasers had been fired, and nobody had been zapped. Was there really no built-in tamper protection in case Morty attempted to take it off on his own?

...Had Rick simply not believed Morty would ever even try?

"Phew!" said Pete, wiping his brow. "That was a tough one. Anyway, pleasure doing business with ya'."

"Oh, uh, thanks," said Morty, staring down at his exposed cock. It had been so long since he'd seen his own genitals in a non-sexual situation that it was almost a little unnerving. The device was self-cleaning, so Rick never even had to take it off for maintenance purposes.

He'd done it. He was _free._ He couldn't help but grin. His cock and ass were his own to do with as he pleased, and Rick was passed out drunk at home, completely unable to do anything about it. Before Rick had come into his life, he'd always taken the sensation of fabric against his genitals for granted, but now, it made him feel _powerful._ But what was he to do with such power?

Morty stared down at his groin again. The high was rapidly beginning to wear off, replaced by a sense of terror and dread as he imagined a scalpel slicing through his scrotum to carve out his balls.

"I think I want to put it back on now," he murmured, about to do just that when somebody placed a hand on his wrist to stop him. Morty turned his gaze upwards to find Brad and Jessica standing over him.

"Come on, Morty, don't just leave us hanging," said Brad. "Pete's had more mouths on his dick than I can count, so if _he_ says you're good, you must be pretty God-damned amazing."

"Yeah, Morty, come on!" said Jessica.

Morty pursed his lips. He was terrified of being a disappointment, but he knew he would regret it the rest of his life if he didn't take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get in good with such a desirable alpha-to-be and one of his potential future omegas. If his life were a fairytale, this was the equivalent of the pauper hooking up with the prince. There were countless stories of beleaguered omegas being rescued from their unfortunate home lives by powerful and wealthy alphas. Morty didn't really care to view himself as a damsel in distress, nor did he have any illusions about getting that coveted 'happily ever after' out of a casual hook-up, but the prospect of a brief escape from beneath Rick's thumb was too tempting to pass up.

"Sure," said Morty, scooting closer while Jessica rolled off of Brad's lap.

He dropped to his knees in what he was sure had to have been the most awkward, unsexy way possible, then opened his mouth expectantly while Brad unzipped his pants. Everything about this felt strange. Not too long ago, Morty never would have believed that he would be sucking off two strangers against his alpha's wishes (three, if he counted that alien king), and yet here he was. What a turn of events.

Brad's length slipped past his lips as easily as any other, and Morty did his best not to choke under the pressure. (Literal choking wasn't quite as much of a concern; Brad was bigger than Pete, but not quite as huge as Rick, who had the advantage of a lifetime of alpha hormones coursing through his veins.)

The friction of the fabric against his genitals was alarmingly distracting, and it was difficult to tell if it was due to the extensive lack of contact making them more sensitive, or Pavlovian conditioning causing him to associate the removal of the belt with sex. Either way, he did his best to throw himself into his task, eager to make a good impression on somebody who wasn't Rick.

"Fuck, he wasn't kidding," said Brad, gripping Morty's hair. "So fucking good…"

It was difficult for Morty to reconcile the praise with the fact that he was being, in this moment, an objectively terrible omega. He'd defied his alpha by coming here, he'd _broken the law_ by having someone remove his chastity belt, and he was currently being unfaithful in a situation where he'd deliberately sabotaged his alpha's ability to fend off rivals. He'd done nothing to be worthy of positive feedback.

So why did it feel so _good?_

"Hold on, stop!" said Brad, and Morty immediately pulled back like it was a command from Rick himself. "You're not in heat, right? Come on, let's fuck."

Brad patted his lap. Morty shifted back.

"But…" said Morty, still teetering back and forth between 'fuck Rick, I hope that bastard chokes on a dick and dies' and 'oh my God, I can't believe how awful I am for doing this.' "What'll I do when Rick smells someone else's cum on me? He'll know I took the belt off!" It was one thing to shower and brush his teeth until the smell was gone. It was a little trickier to scrub his innards clean.

"Uh, a condom," said Brad. "Duh."

Jessica waved a box in front of Morty's face.

"Beta condoms," she explained. "They're specifically designed to nullify smells so betas can have casual sex with omegas without accidentally allowing their scent become more pronounced than their alpha's."

Once again, Morty couldn't help but be a little amazed by just how well his peers had thought everything through. The fact that this was clearly commonplace enough that everyone seemed to be in on all of the tricks to avoid getting caught was mind-blowing.

"Okay," said Morty, slowly getting to his feet. His heart pounded against his ribcage like it was trying to escape his chest. Was he really doing this? "Let's do it."

"All right!" said Brad, unrolling the condom over his dick. "Come on, get on."

In heat, it had seemed almost second-nature to climb into somebody's lap with the intent of skewering himself with their cock. The sheer force of horniness had completely overcome his capacity to feel guilt or shame. This, however, was far more difficult. The angry, rebellious part of Morty was completely in favor of the whole thing. Rick had been a total asshole to him. He'd done nothing to earn Morty's loyalty, and he would probably continue to be a dick when Morty returned.

The compassionate, forgiving part of him, however, could hardly believe what he was doing. Rick was his _alpha_ and _grandfather,_ and for as terrible as he might have been at both of those things, Morty couldn't help but love him. For as awful as he could be, Morty's stubborn brain refused to stop coming up with all the times that Rick had been kind to him; even _selfless._ Betraying the asshole Rick who'd left his chastity belt on him while he was in heat also meant betraying the kind Rick who'd spend two weeks straight at his bedside treating him for some nasty space virus he'd picked up on one of their adventures.

For a moment, as Brad lined himself up with Morty's entrance, he considered calling the whole thing off. Before he could voice his hesitation, however, Brad pushed his hips downwards, fully sheathing himself inside and committing Morty to the act in the process.

"Mm," Morty moaned. Treachery felt surprisingly good. Brad didn't give him much time to adjust before he began to pound into him in earnest, but then, neither did Rick. In addition, despite his grandfather's technique being objectively superior as a result of the decades-long difference in experience, the taboo of being fucked by another alpha (err, well, beta, technically) was exciting in ways he couldn't quite explain. "H-harder! Ri- Brad, please, more!"

As he draped his arms over Brad's shoulders, it was difficult not to notice just how much attention they were drawing. Sex in and of itself wasn't particularly interesting, and they weren't the only people there who were fucking, but it was bound to be a little shocking to see a star football player balls-deep in a scrawny outcast with undiagnosed psychological issues due to his family's contempt for therapists. It was a little embarrassing, but also kind of gratifying to witness their jealousy. For once in his life, he was the subject of _envy,_ not contempt.

Initially, Morty was content to let Brad do most of the work, but it wasn't long before he started yearning for some more precise stimulation. He began pushing his hips back down against Brad's, bouncing up and down on his cock at an angle that did far more for his aching prostate.

"Yes, _yes!"_ gasped Morty. He was sure that he would regret this later, but for just this one moment, nothing could possibly ruin this for him!

Red and blue lights began flashing rapidly through the window.

"COPS!" someone screamed, and everything immediately descended into chaos.

 _"Motherfucker!"_ said Brad, rocketing upwards and dumping Morty on the ground like he'd suddenly discovered the species of snake that he was holding was venomous. "Everybody book it!"

"Oh _fuck!"_ said Morty, hurrying to his feet and struggling to push his way through the horde of panicked partygoers to retrieve his chastity belt. Unfortunately, this was also the goal of a significant chunk of of the other omega attendees, all of whom were scrambling to snap their devices back into place as their first priority. Getting busted for underage drinking was infinitely more preferable than the alternative.

As the police hammered their fists against the door, Morty grabbed his belt from the sofa he'd left it on and quickly tucked his cock back into place. Once he was certain everything was tucked away such that he wouldn't end up pinching his foreskin or something equally unpleasant, he pushed the lock together, expecting it to clip shut the same way it always did when Rick put it back on.

...Why wasn't it clipping shut?

 _"Tampering detected,"_ droned a speaker that Morty hadn't even been aware existed. _"Locking mechanism disabled."_

Oh. Of _course._ Rick hadn't designed the device to be tamper-resistant; he'd designed it to make Morty _think_ he'd pulled the wool over his eyes only to snatch victory away from him at the last second in a way that made it impossible to later claim that the triggering of the tamper-protection had been accidental. Why had he expected anything less of him? This was, after all, the man who'd driven the God-damned _devil_ to attempt suicide.

Morty clutched his chest. _Don't panic, don't panic…_

Yeah, no, actually, if ever there had been a time for Morty to panic, it was now.

With nothing more to gain by staying and absolutely everything to lose if he were caught, Morty raced to the door like a pack of pissed-off aliens were at his heels. In a weird way, there was almost a comforting familiarity in running from the authorities. If he could outrun Nobguzglian tracking hounds and ruthless Barbalopes, surely Earthly authorities could never hope to catch him!

At least, that would be the case if there weren't currently a pack of panicking humans clogging up all possible exits. In an incredible display of the same logic that necessitated fire codes to require public buildings to have outward-swinging doors as a result of panicked hordes pushing too hard against the people at the front to allow them to back up enough to actually open them, there were currently three idiots all attempting to squeeze out the door at the same time instead of forming a single-file line. The only back windows large enough to fit a person through were also too congested to even consider, and the front was where all the police were.

Okay, so escape was definitely not an option. Time to hide.

Morty considered his options. First, he took the most obvious ideas (closets, under beds, and in the shower behind a curtain) and instantly discarded them. Even if no one else had taken them already, they were the first places anyone would think to look.

Could he fit in a cabinet? Someone might think to check the ones on the ground, but his numerous adventures had left him pretty agile; if he could find one big enough to hold him, he could probably clamber up into an overhead cabinet. From there, he would wait it out until the cops left, then run away and never return. He would start a new life under a different name, like 'Moe' or 'Maurice!' And then, _then_ he would find some down-on-their-luck horny alpha with low standards to latch onto! They would probably be some unstable drug addict, but that was fine; Morty was used to that. They'd breed in an alleyway, Morty would give birth to a handful of horribly deformed children who he'd be too poor to treat thanks to the wonders of the American healthcare system, then they would die and prompt him to fall into a terrible depression where he'd be left to contemplate the terrible life choices that had led him to that point, and _then_ he would intentionally overdose on enough drugs to kill himself, and they would all live happily ever after. Or die happily ever after. Whatever kept his balls intact.

Morty scrambled into the kitchen and started pulling pots out of the biggest overhead cabinet he could find, then noisily stuffed them into one of the lower ones in the hope that anyone who opened them would just assume that the mess was from the party. Once it was empty, he hoisted himself up onto the counter, then carefully climbed into the cabinet. It was very, _very_ tight, and he was pretty sure he'd cracked one of the shelves trying to fit, but such was the price of testicular integrity.

Just as he managed to shut the cabinet doors, he could hear the front door burst open.

"Hands in the air! Get on the ground!" barked one of the officers.

"Wait, what? Do I put my hands in the air or get on the ground?" someone screamed.

"I think you're supposed to do whatever they said to do last, so we should get on the ground."

"No, I think they were ordering different people to do different things! You get on the ground, and I put my hands in the air."

"The two orders aren't mutually exclusive!" roared the officer. "You can have your hands in the air while you're on the ground!"

"That sounds super uncomfortable!"

"No one gives a shit!"

The panicked chatter went on for several more minutes, though it wasn't quite loud enough to mask the sound of handcuffs being secured to people's wrists. Morty held his breath as a set of footsteps seemed to indicate a group of officers entering the kitchen where he was hiding.

"Anyone in here?" called one of the officers.

"That's gotta be the most pointless question I've ever heard," said the other officer. "If they're hiding from us, they aren't gonna reveal themselves just because we asked."

"You never know," said the first officer. "Teenagers are pretty stupid."

"Hey!" cried an indignant voice that sounded like it was coming from one of the lower cabinets. "I resent that remark!"

"See? What'd I tell you?" said the first officer. Morty mentally facepalmed in response to the sound of the other partygoer being dragged kicking and screaming out of his hiding spot to be handcuffed. "Now check the other cabinets."

Morty tensed. If this were a horror movie, this would have been the point where some random crashing noise or scream in another room distracted the person looking for him, allowing him to slip away unnoticed. Alas, this was not a horror movie, and if they decided to check his hiding spot, he was well and truly fucked. For several painful minutes, he could do nothing but listen to the sound of opening cabinets.

"Looks like that was the only one," said the first officer. "Let's search the other rooms."

"You sure you don't want to check the upper cabinets?"

"Pfffft, don't be ridiculous. Nobody would hide in the _upper_ cabinets."

Morty mentally pumped his fist. Fuck yeah!

_Crack!_

Fuck no!

Morty cried out as the bottom of the cabinet split open beneath him, sending him plummeting to the countertop below.

"Huh," said the first officer. "I guess I spoke too soon."

 

* * *

 

Earth jail certainly wasn't the _worst_ place that Morty had ever spent the night, but it was impossible to sleep through the dread of his impending pick-up. Every time he thought that he'd come up with the worst possible thing that Rick might do to him, something ten times worse popped into his head.

"Morty Smith?" addressed one of the guards, unlocking the door. "Your alpha is here to take you home."

For a long, _long_ moment, Morty genuinely considered attempting to murder one of the other teenagers in his cell in the hope that it would get him an actual sentence. Alas, even if he somehow managed to last long enough to have technically committed a crime before he got his ass handed to him, Rick would no doubt just portal into whatever prison he ended up in to retrieve him.

He kept his head low as he followed the guard outside, too terrified to look at Rick's face. As it was, he nearly soiled himself upon seeing the familiar white lab coat.

It was almost a relief when, rather than ordering him around, Rick simply grabbed Morty by the wrist and dragged him through a portal. Not being able to hear the fury in his voice made it easier for him to delude himself into thinking that maybe, just _maybe_ he wasn't actually that angry.

Once they reached the other side of the portal, Morty took a glance around. It looked like Rick had taken them back to the garage. Both the door to the outside and the door to the house were closed and barricaded with metal bars like Rick was expecting some kind of attack, but Morty knew better. Those reinforcements weren't to keep anyone out; they were to keep him from escaping.

As Morty slowly lifted his head, one of the first things he noticed was his unlatched chastity belt sitting on the countertop. He took a deep, shaky breath and dropped to his knees.

"I-I-I submit to Alpha's punishment," he choked out, trying and failing to conceal his pants-wetting terror as he shakily pressed his lips to Rick's shoes.

"Get up."

Morty rocketed back to his feet.

"Bend over the table. Pants down."

Morty desperately wanted to believe that the peculiar tranquility in Rick's voice was a good sign, but the uncharacteristically short and to-the-point manner in which he was speaking was somehow even more terrifying than when he was shouting. At least if he shouted, Morty felt like he knew where he stood. It was impossible to gauge Rick's mood from such monotone orders.

He dropped his pants and bent over as he'd been told, legs parted under the assumption that he was about to be spanked, subjugated, or both.

Instead, Rick pushed something far smaller inside of him. A butt plug? But no, it couldn't be; the base would have been flared. Whatever Rick had inserted seemed to dissolve inside of him. A suppository, then?

"What was that?" he dared to ask.

"You'll figure it out soon enough," said Rick. He unzipped his fly.

"A-am I gonna be…" Morty began, hesitating for fear of the answer. "...neutered?"

"Not if you do what I tell you," said Rick. Morty's shaking knees almost gave out from pure relief. "Can't say the same for your buddy Pete. Me, I've got better things to do than press charges against a stupid kid looking for blowjobs, but it turns out that not every alpha is as forgiving as me. Poor bastard got name-dropped by at least seven different omegas all hoping to stay intact in exchange for their honesty. Joke's on them, though; I was looking over some shoulders while I waited for them to bring you out to me, and most of them were requests for castration permits. Pro tip, Morty; never give out names before you even get to the hearing. Those suckers could have offered him up in exchange for a plea bargain. Now they're fucked for life, literally, because they'll be omegas forever." He snorted. "Could be worse. I mean, it'll be easy for them to find mates. Everybody wants a neutered omega. Less horny, less aggressive, and less hassle."

"Not you, though?"

"Bitch, I'd take your balls in a second if I didn't have to wait six fucking months for a permit," growled Rick, much to Morty distress. "Luckily for the both of us, I've got my own ways of fixing problems, emphasis on the _fixing."_

"Wait," said Morty, his concern about that suppository beginning to grow. "Did you just chemically castrate me?"

"And give you some physical evidence you can blab to your doctor about at your next check-up? Not a chance," said Rick. Morty sighed with relief. "I just numbed you up a bit. No doctor on Earth will be able to figure out what happened or how to fix it."

"Numbed?" repeated Morty.

"An explanation would just go way over your empty head, so I'll just show you," said Rick.

Morty grunted as Rick grabbed his hair and slammed his face down against the counter. He'd expected to be subjugated, as was standard practice for such situations, so it wasn't surprising to feel Rick's cock pressing into his body. What was surprising, however, was the thoroughly dispassionate nature of it. It slid in, and Morty could feel it inside of him, but there were no pleasurable sensations; there was only pain and discomfort.

"What…?" was all he could say. As the friction continued, it began to dawn on Morty what Rick had meant by 'numbed.' "I- You-" He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't feel even the tiniest bit of pleasure. Rick might as well have been fucking his naval; there was nothing to enjoy anymore. _"What the fuck?"_

"Don't 'what the fuck' me. You think you can just spread your legs for whatever dick you want, and everything is going to be okay?" said Rick, thrusting harshly enough to leave Morty whimpering with pain. "I was willing to forgive it the first time because you were in heat, but this? You _planned_ this! I mean, fuck me for thinking that all that mushy lovey bullshit was 'cause you were actually sorry about what happened. Turns out you were just waiting for the next chance to jump on somebody else's dick."

Morty dug his nails into the countertop. It was clear that Rick was angry, and that was terrifying, but there was something in him that simply refused to let those words go unchallenged.

 _"I_ was supposed to be sorry?" growled Morty. It was like combustible gas had been building up in his head for thousands of years, and Rick had just set of a spark that quickly escalated into an explosion. "Are you _fucking kidding me?"_

This was it. Rick had pushed, and pushed, and _pushed,_ and Morty could take it no longer. Like a horse that had grown fed up with its ever-tightening bearing rein, he completely lost it. Rick's cock popped out of him as he swung around to clock him with the back of his fist, sending Rick stumbling back a few steps in total shock.

"I was in _heat,_ you fucking asshole!" roared Morty. "How many God-damned times have I had to save you from your own stupid fucking decisions when you were in a rut? A complete fuckton! And-and-and did I ever get any kind of a thank you for stopping you from blowing up a continent, or-or distracting you before you forced yourself on some princess from a planet where that sort of thing is punishable by death? Of course not, because I'm- that's just me doing my job as your omega, apparently! But when _my_ hormones get all weird, do I get that same kind of understanding? No, you expect me to stay totally rational during a fucking _heat_ with a _metal fucking prison_ around my dick! And then it's somehow _still my fault_ when I end up on somebody else's lap!"

"I never asked you to do any of that shit when I was in a rut!" snapped Rick. "You think I need you to take care of me? I don't need you! I don't need _anyone!"_ He punctuated this statement by grabbing Morty by the shirt and shoving him to the ground. "You think you're the one keeping me together? Well, surprise surprise, I've been cleaning up my own messes for _seventy years_ without your fucking help! You think that just 'cause you showed up and rubbed a little Windex on the windows that you're any more vital to me than a fucking house plant? No. You're only in my life because I tolerate you being there!"

"You _tolerate_ me?" said Morty. "You honestly expect me to believe that you drag me all around the multiverse and get jealous of me spending time with anybody other than you because you _tolerate_ me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," said Rick, leaning over Morty and spitting down into his face. "I couldn't give less of a shit who you may want to fuck. This isn't about me liking you, this is about me not letting other assholes take what's mine!"

"Then why are you pissed at me?" said Morty, wiping the saliva from his cheek. "You-you know what I think? I think you want all the perks of having an obedient little omega who loves and dotes on you, but other than threatening me, you don't want to put any work into actually maintaining that! I'm supposed to pick up the slack for both of us while you sit back and reap the rewards! You take and you take, but you never _give,_ Rick!"

"You're damn right, I take!" said Rick, pressing his shoe to Morty's chest. "I'm your _alpha!_ And you know what? I would take even if I _wasn't_ your alpha, because I'm _Rick fucking Sanchez,_ and if I _want_ something, it's _mine!"_ Morty realized with a flash of alarm that Rick's pupils were beginning to dilate, and he was beginning to give off the scent of an alpha in a rut. That wasn't good. "I could destroy this entire _planet,_ if I wanted to! I could wipe this whole corner of the universe from existence like it was never even there! Do you realize how pointless and insignificant you are to me? You're not even a blip on my radar!"

"Rick," said Morty quietly, realizing that he might have just made a huge mistake. He could redirect Rick's aggression when it was aimed at someone else, but he had no means of saving himself. Even if his family somehow knew what was going on, nobody would be able to save him through the barricades that Rick had set up. It was like being trapped in a room with a ravenous animal, only somehow even worse, because this ravenous animal was a hyper-intelligent asshole with a god complex. _"Alpha,_ please! I submit!"

"Nobody controls me," said Rick. "Especially not a dirty fucking _speck_ like _you!"_

Rick's foot collided with Morty's skull hard enough that it felt like his brain was rattling about inside. From there, everything was a haze. He could feel the pain of his hands being smashed, his ribs broken, and his kneecaps shot, but the passage of time was a blur to him. Reality seemed to fade in and out of existence, playing out before him in broken snippets.

"Fuck you, Morty!"

"Get the fuck up!"

"I mean it, Morty!"

"Morty?"

"Morty! Oh, hell…"

"It's okay, Morty! You're okay! Just-just keep on breathing..."

"Morty? Morty!"

Everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

From the sound of the heart monitor, Morty fully expected to find himself in a hospital when he opened his eyes. What he got instead was the garage. More specifically, it seemed he'd been taken to the not-so-secret underground section where Rick kept the sizable majority of the equipment that just wouldn't fit up above.

Unlike basically every panicked movie protagonist ever, Morty opted to refrain from ripping out his IV in a panic so he could wander around in search of answers. Even if he'd wanted to, however, it would have proven quite difficult; both of his hands were purple and swollen, and he could hardly even attempt to sit up without being completely overwhelmed by the sensation of being stabbed by his own rib cage.

"Rick?" he croaked. Everything hurt, even his throat. The memories were a little fuzzy thanks to the head trauma, but he was about eighty percent sure that this was the handiwork of his rutting grandfather.

"I'm right here, Morty," said Rick from behind his bed, sounding equal parts relieved and distressed to see Morty up again even as he tried to hide it behind his typical apathetic monotone. "How's the pain?"

"Pretty bad, actually," admitted Morty, his voice crackling like he was guzzling pop rocks between words.

Rick rounded the bed into Morty's line of sight and pressed a button nearby. There was a gentle whirring sound followed by a rapid onset of relief. Morty wasn't sure what Rick was using as a painkiller, but it was working like a charm. It was almost enough for him to forget that he'd caused his suffering in the first place.

"So," said Morty, internally wincing at his own clumsy attempt to start a dialogue. "I-"

"You're pregnant," said Rick bluntly, and Morty's jaw dropped.

Oh, right, _that_ had been a concern. How had he managed to forget that not-so-insignificant plot thread? Just as importantly, how how had he _known?_ Even in a rut, Rick shouldn't have been able to smell it so early.

Fuck, Rick had beaten the ever-loving shit out of him _before_ he'd known about that whole thing. Morty swallowed, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

"I'm-"

"Don't worry about that right now," said Rick, turning around to grab a pair of blue gloves from a box on a nearby surgical tray. "It saved your life."

"Uh…" said Morty. "What?"

Rick groaned in the way he always did when he had to explain something he found incredibly simple in a way that Morty could understand.

"Look, I've got an ego. I'm not too ashamed to admit that," said Rick. Morty wanted to respond with a pointed 'no shit,' but he held his tongue on account of the fact that his body was still in shambles as a result of his _last_ outburst. "That- It doesn't always mix well with a rut. Realizing that my kid was inside you, even if I don't really _want_ it to be there, was enough to cut off the hormones and snap me out of it. If it weren't for that, I probably would have killed you."

Morty sighed and stared at his bandaged feet. He was tired in every sense of the word, and he didn't have the physical, nor the emotional energy to tiptoe around this conversation in a way that would keep him safe from Rick's wrath. The sooner he submitted, the easier things would be.

"It's fine," lied Morty. "You're an alpha. It happens."

"Morty, if that was a normal thing that happened to all alphas every time their omegas got a little chatty, half your class would be dead," said Rick. "Don't be- Fuck, you're just saying that because you're worried I'll kick the shit out of you again, aren't you?"

Morty chewed his lip.

"Yeah, you are," sighed Rick. "Gimme a second."

Morty watched with bewilderment as Rick picked up a nearby syringe, tested it out to make sure there were no air bubbles inside, then injected it not into Morty's arm, but his own.

"There," said Rick, setting the needle aside and leaning on the surgical tray, suddenly looking a little wobbly. "Rut blockers and a tranquilizer. Now talk." He furrowed his brow. "For real this time."

Was he serious? "Talk about what?"

"Do I have to write you a list?" grumbled Rick. "Let's start with how the hell you ended up pregnant."

"Oh," said Morty, not yet sure if he could trust that he wasn't going to end up with his bones doubly-broken if he wasn't careful. "I don't know."

"Do I have to break out those picture books about how the sperm travels to the egg?" mused Rick. "Look, Morty, I-"

"I mean, I know _how,"_ said Morty quickly. "I hid the pill behind my lip. I mean that I don't really know why I did it. Like, it was a stupid decision. I don't-" He stared down at his stomach. "I'm not ready for a-a-a baby yet. I was in heat, Rick. I wasn't thinking straight."

"...That's it?"

Morty took a deep breath.

"And-and I wanted to do it to spite you," he admitted at last. "Because you told me I couldn't have one."

The tranquilizer must have been pretty strong, because Rick just continued to watch him in contemplative silence.

"But _why?_ " said Rick. "You've never had problems following orders before. Why is it suddenly an issue now?"

"Because you _left_ me!" said Morty. What more explanation was needed? How was it anything short of obvious? "I was in heat, and I _needed_ you, but you wanted to go party, so you left me alone in a chastity belt. Which, by the way, _fucking hurts_ when you're hard."

"That's it?" said Rick.

"What do you mean, 'that's it?' " said Morty. He scowled. "You-you-you're only around when it's convenient for _you._ The second it stops being fun, you're gone. You said it yourself, Rick; I don't mean anything to you." The scowl faded into a frown. "I just wish you'd told me that before I started to care about you."

"Uhg, it's like listening to a soap opera," grumbled Rick, but notably, he didn't deny Morty's accusation. "What, am I supposed to be there _every_ time you need a comforting pat on the ass? You'll be lucky if your future mate spends even half as much time with you as I do."

"There _is_ no 'future mate!' " said Morty.

"No matter what you look like or how terrible you are at everything, there's always some shitty alpha looking for an extra housekeeper or-or a mate to placate their least favorite beta," said Rick.

"That's not what I mean. You don't plan on _letting_ me find a mate," said Morty. At long last, his words appeared to leave Rick stunned and speechless. "Maybe you don't even completely realize it, but you want to keep me for yourself, don't you? Because, once Summer leaves, you don't have anybody else. I mean, there's my dad, but you never liked him. You'll be alone."

"Is that your big deduction of the day?" said Rick. "You think I want to be your forever-mate, or whatever it is that people are calling it nowadays?"

Morty nodded, and Rick smiled a sad smile.

"I'm not gonna lie, Morty; after you told me about hiding the pill, I was gonna try and pin this whole pregnancy thing on you. Guess you're not as stupid as I thought," said Rick, sitting himself down at the edge of the bed. "That was a sugar pill, Morty. It wouldn't have worked even if you swallowed it."

"A what?" said Morty, not sure he'd heard that correctly.

"It was a fake pill, dipshit. I wanted you to get pregnant," said Rick. "Not 'cause I want a kid, or anything. Like I said, been there, done that. That kid was gonna be my way of anchoring you to me. No one wants an omega who's already got a baby unless they're crazy hot, and, no offense, Morty, but you're not exactly a supermodel."

"Are you kidding me?" said Morty. "You were gonna make some innocent kid suffer through a childhood of one underage parent and one parent that doesn't even want them just so you could keep me?"

"Morty, how many times do I have to establish that I'm not a good person before this shit stops being so surprising?" said Rick.

"It's not surprising," said Morty, who would have crossed his arms over his chest if they weren't both broken. "That doesn't make it any less disappointing." He looked away. "And weirdly, uh, kind of nice."

"Come again?"

Morty wished he could cover his reddening cheeks. "Look, I know it's awful, but I don't think you've ever told me that you actually _like_ me before."

"Technically, I didn't tell you that I liked you," said Rick, turning his head so his face was obscured from view. "It was more of a strong implication."

"It got the point across," said Morty. "Rick, I-I really do care about you. You're the first person in my life who's ever really wanted to hang out with me, even if a lot of that was dangerous crap nobody else was desperate enough to do. When you're not being, well, a jerk, I really like being with you." His cheeks burned brighter. "And, umm, you're kind of a way better fuck than Brad."

He could see Rick's fingers curling around the sheets.

"So you _did_ fuck someone else."

"Yeah," admitted Morty, even as Rick's hands began shaking. Hopefully, that had been a powerful rut-blocker. "I- Well, the police kind of showed up halfway through, but I'm pretty sure it still counts. You, uh, you're not gonna kill him, right?"

It took an uncomfortably long time for Rick to finally relax and respond, "Little bastard isn't worth my time."

Phew.

"I'm sorry, Rick," said Morty.

"Why the fuck are you apologizing?" muttered Rick. "I'm your alpha, right? I should have been able to stop him."

That was the closest thing to an admission of fault that Morty had ever seen Rick utter.

"It's not about stopping _him,"_ said Morty. "I'm not asking you to be _more_ controlling!"

"So, what, you're asking me to let you have sex with whoever you want? Is that it?"

"No!" said Morty, frustrated. "I'm asking you to treat me less like an object and more like a person so I don't feel like I have to get that from other people! You act like I'm some kind of mindless animal that needs to be controlled. I mean, it's almost like-" All of a sudden, it clicked. "You're afraid that I'll run off the second you loosen the reins."

"I'm not _afraid,_ " grumbled Rick. "I'm _rightfully concerned."_

"Why?" said Morty. "What'd I ever do to make you feel that way?"

"It's not about what you did," said Rick, visibly tense. "Look, it doesn't matter, okay?"

"It _does_ matter!" said Morty, even if upsetting Rick in his current condition wasn't the greatest idea he'd ever had. "Rick, _tell me!"_

"Jesus, it's because you're just like your grandma, alright?" said Rick, finally turning to face him with eyes full of regret. "She thought I was too controlling, so I backed off. Next thing I know, she's constantly challenging me on _every little thing._ 'These diapers smell weird, start buying a different brand.' 'I think you should spend more time with Beth.' 'You need to try harder to get along with your father.' "

"Uh…" said Morty, because those all sounded like pretty reasonable suggestions to him.

"She just kept _pushing,"_ said Rick. "When she started throwing out my tools and destroying my inventions, that was when I left."

"Did you try to talk to her about it?" asked Morty. "Did you make any kind of an effort to compromise before it got that bad?"

"What compromise?" said Rick. "That wasn't what she wanted."

"It's just, umm," began Morty carefully. "I mean, I wasn't there, but it kind of sounds to me like she was trying to start a dialogue because she trusted you, and you took any kind of question as some sort of personal attack. Like, it was wrong to trash your things, but, I mean, based on what I know about you…" He couldn't smell a rut coming on, and he prayed that the regulated hormones would keep Rick from hurting him when he was already this badly injured. "I'm kind of wondering how much of the friction was because of your ego."

Morty regretted his phrasing as soon as the words left his mouth. Rick had just beaten the shit out of him for running his mouth, and here he was questioning someone who he'd just accused of hating to be questioned. He really _was_ stupid, wasn't he?

He flinched as Rick got to his feet.

"Do you want that baby?" asked Rick.

Morty hesitated.

"No," he said at last. "But it's not because I want to leave you. I'm just not ready to have a kid, and neither are you."

"Makes sense," said Rick, reaching for a bottle of pills and waving one in front of Morty's face. "Here, this one's real. Don't get too worried about the ethics of it, or whatever; whatever's inside you right now isn't any bigger or more complicated than a half a grain of rice. You've killed more intelligent organisms with hand soap."

"I wasn't worried," said Morty, opening his mouth to accept the pill that his hands were too broken to hold and swallowing it down.

"Yeah, well, I never know with you," said Rick. "You're all about the whole 'every life matters' shit."

"Yeah, with fully-formed people!" said Morty. "Just because I don't think it's a great idea to drop bombs on populated cities to kill one guy who spilled coffee on your shirt doesn't mean- never mind."

He blinked as Rick held another pill in front of his face.

"What's this one for?" asked Morty.

"A cure to the suppository I gave you earlier," said Rick.

Morty didn't hesitate to swallow this pill, too. He supposed that was as close to an apology as he was going to get. It was far from perfect, but it was good enough.

"How long am I gonna be stuck here?"

"Not long. Now that you're stable, I can fix most of the damage pretty easily," said Rick, snapping on the gloves that he'd grabbed earlier.

"Okay."

For several minutes, he watched Rick mix up chemicals and calibrate devices in silence. The scent of unease seemed to fill the room, and Morty wasn't sure if it was his, Rick's, or a mixture of both.

"Rick," said Morty at last. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"What the hell kind of a question is that?" said Rick. "You're the one in a full body cast."

"You're just acting really weird," said Morty. "I'm sorry for what I said about grandma."

"Why?" snorted Rick. "Do you think you were wrong?"

"Well, I mean, no, but-"

"Do you know why I hate therapists, Morty?" said Rick. "It's because I can't stand the thought that there are other people out there who can see things in me that I can't even see in myself. I mean, I'm a genius, and I've been one for over seventy years. How the fuck can I have such a hard time figuring out how my own mind works? I could tell you what every last cell in my brain does, but the difference between knowing the physiology and being able to piece it together is like the difference between being able to recognize every color on the spectrum and being able to paint a picture with them. I don't _get_ myself, which sounds _fucking ridiculous,_ so when other people are able to explain me better than I can, it pisses me off." He slammed his hands down on the surgical tray, sending scalpels and scissors flying. "It's the same with you. You know me better than I do. I can tell you a short story about what happened, and _you_ can explain why I did what I did faster than _I_ can. And as soon as I hear it, I _know_ it's right, but fuck if it doesn't still suck balls to rely on someone else to tell me!"

He whacked the tray and sent it crashing to the ground.

"What's so bad about relying on other people?" said Morty.

"Because the second you start relying on other people, you're fucked if they leave, and that gives them power over you," said Rick. "Suddenly they can start making demands, and the next thing you know, they have you wrapped around their finger. Everything that made you who you are is gone if they don't like it."

Morty had no idea where Rick had acquired his fucked up perspective on interpersonal relationships, and he was pretty sure that now was a bad time to ask. The important thing was that it explained a lot of Rick's over-controlling tendencies. It didn't excuse them, of course, but it was helpful to know.

"I never wanted to control you or make you something you aren't, Rick," said Morty. "I don't want to leave, either. I just want enough freedom for that to be my choice. Just because I want more autonomy doesn't mean I'm gonna try to fuck you over with it. It's just that the more you tie me down, the more uncomfortable it is to be stuck there. I need room to move and breathe."

"Yeah, well, moving is gonna have to wait until afterwards," said Rick, holding up another syringe. "Hold still."

 

* * *

 

Morty tapped away at his laptop, only half-interested in the video he was watching. It was difficult to take his mind off of his little heart-to-heart with Rick. The damage to his body had been mended, but the damage to his psyche would take longer to heal. Rick had made only minimal contact with him since he'd recovered, choosing to keep to the garage for everything but meals. Morty, still a little fearful of pissing him off badly enough to get beaten that badly again, opted to avoid him as much as possible. Occasionally, his parents would comment on the distance between them, but they seemed to know better than to push the issue.

Ordinarily, this kind of separation would leave Morty feeling far more anxious. They hadn't coupled in over two weeks, which, while it wasn't the longest amount of time Morty had gone without sex, was still rather uncomfortable to him. Rick hadn't yet restored the chastity belt to working condition, so at least he'd been able to masturbate for the first time in forever, but it wasn't quite the same. It had been so long since he'd last last used his hand that the sensation was almost alien to him.

Just as Morty was about to close his laptop and dive under the covers for the night, a bright green portal popped up beside his bed. He snapped to attention, expecting Rick to burst through at any moment, but no one stepped through.

Was this some kind of an invitation?

Apprehensive, yet curious, Morty got to his feet and walked through.

He was admittedly a little surprised to find himself in the garage, having expected to be whisked away to the middle of a firefight or, barring that, an alien bar or casino.

"Over here, Morty," said Rick. Morty spun around to see Rick holding a familiar device in his hands.

"Oh," said Morty, forcing himself to smile through his disappointment as he eyed the chastity belt. "Just-just a second."

Before he could unbutton his jeans, Rick reached out and took his wrist.

"Wait."

Rick set the device on the table, then picked up a hammer.

_THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!_

With a few well-placed strikes, the device split apart into twisted-up pieces.

"I think you know better now than to jerk it when the planet's in danger," was all Rick had to say on the matter.

Morty grinned and wrapped his arms around Rick's waist in a tight embrace. He could feel Rick tense beneath his touch, and he half-expected to be shoved away, but after a long moment of hesitation, he could feel his grandfather's hands at his back, awkwardly returning the hug.

"Yeah," said Morty.

A moment of silence passed between them.

"We're not in danger right now, are we?"

"Sure doesn't seem like it," said Rick.

Morty pressed his palm against Rick's groin.

"I missed you," said Morty, pressing his cheek against Rick. "Are you gonna stop ignoring me now?"

"Depends," said Rick, nudging him up against the wall and grinding his knee into Morty's crotch. "Are you gonna be more noticeable?"

"Mmhmm," said Morty.

Rick grinned.

"Then let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, the art for this piece was drawn by Marie, whose work you can find on their Tumblr [here!](https://vampire-morty.tumblr.com/) If you like what you see, give them some sweet, sweet reblogs!
> 
> If you want more fanfic, be sure to check out the other stories in the Rick and Morty Big Bang collection! A lot of really talented authors and artists worked really hard to bring you over 400k of fic, and they'd love it if you left them some comments! Thank you!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Puppet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17933393) by [devil_in_a_halo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devil_in_a_halo/pseuds/devil_in_a_halo)




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